Taylor Swift gets criticised for turning heartbreak and betrayal into songs. I do the same, with fewer guitars and a much smaller audience.
Blogging has always been my outlet. Long before social media, I wrote to vent, sometimes with subliminal messaging tucked between the lines. I didn’t need a crowd. A handful of loyal readers was enough to feel heard and make my point. That space was mine, and it still is.
I continue to write about people who cross me or my family. If you don’t want to be cast as the villain, don’t mistreat others. Every choice has a cost. I won’t apologise for writing. This is my page and my story. I don’t tag names or hand out invitations. But if you’re lurking, reading between the lines, and feeling exposed, stop and ask yourself why. If the shoe fits, that weight belongs to you. Take the discomfort as a mirror. Spend less time spying on other people’s lives and more time on your own classwork instead of copying someone else’s.
My last post touched on my daughter’s friendship breakdown. People like to say, “Let the kids figure it out.” To me, that’s a cop out. Children need space to grow, but not at the cost of being hurt, cornered, or made to feel powerless. That’s when they need their parents. That’s when I step in. The world is already hard enough. I refuse to let it chip away at my child while I stand by in silence. She knows I’ll speak up. She knows I don’t let things slide just to keep the peace. She knows her mother will protect her.
Cyberstalking, hiding behind fake accounts, cheating during exams, and schoolyard gossip might look like games until someone lands in the principal’s office with a suspension.
This is not school drama. This is me drawing a line. You don’t get to mess with my girl without facing consequences.