Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity.

It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity.

– Brené Brown




Is this the light refracting innocently through a droplet of rain I’m seeing

trapped in a spider’s tangled web on the patio of Alicante Avenue?

Where my mother (bless her) kept her maiden name because she’s proud of it

and deep down enjoys spelling it over the phone for people: V for Victory

N for Nelly, U.K. See, she never liked us having pets, but when I was 8

a local pet store ran a colouring competition that promised a free goldfish

for every submission – I called mine Bob – and years later I still don’t have

a strong affinity with my first pet, or a hidden talent for art. The high school

I attended is also the name of a car, but not the first car I learned to drive in

which was a red Holden Nova (1989), Dad paying a mate cash to paint it white.

I’ve never done well with numbers, but I liked being 14 on the soccer team.

From calling it so often in high school I have retained 82785818, which was/is

the home phone of my friend Kieran. Lasagne is probably my favourite food

but I haven’t eaten meat since 2014. I learned Cancer was my star sign

standing in the line for a club (Dog & Duck) on the night of my 18th birthday.

Isn’t it strange that because I had my first job coaching cricket that summer

I had to set up a MyGov account with security questions just so I could pay tax

and all this before I had lost my virginity?