Showing posts with label life with sweetestmoondust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life with sweetestmoondust. Show all posts

Sunday, February 22

Sunday Reflection: Reclaiming My Name through 'Nobody's Girl'"

 Dear Diary,


Book cover of Nobody's Girl by Virginia Giuffre on a Sunday mending desk.


It is Sunday, and I’m finally sitting down to find my rhythm after a week of navigating the usual "brick walls." I’ve spent the morning thinking about Nobody’s Girl by Virginia Giuffre. It’s one of those books that stays with you, especially when your own body is screaming for a "Red Light" day.

This book feels like a series of "Mirror Moments" for me. Virginia talks about the "Invisible Cage"—that feeling of being trapped not just by circumstances, but by the systemic betrayal of people who should have protected you. Seeing the "receipts" of her father's actions while she was fighting for her own name... It’s a heavy reminder of why I’m so focused on my own Evidence of Success. When the world tries to take your name, you have to be the one to reclaim it.

The part that really hit my bandwidth was her battle with the physical cost. She writes about Fibromyalgia, depression, and severe neck pain. It’s a perfect example of "The Body Keeps the Score." Her body was trying to carry the weight of the world, and it eventually gave out. As someone living with Stage 4 Endometriosis and CP, I felt that in my soul.

She achieved so much for "the newer ones," but the cost was so high. It’s a tragic reality that we can find our way out of the Cage and into the Sanctuary, but we still carry the scars of the battle.

The Verdict: Virginia is the ultimate warrior. She reclaimed her legacy for her children even when her body was failing her. It’s given me a lot of "stickability" fuel for Book 5. We aren't defined by the cage; we are determined by the strength it took to break out of it.

Sunday, February 15

Life Gives You a Code Brown... Win or Learn.

Dear Diary






Today feels like a mix of chaos and clarity. They say never work with children or animals, but Graeme Parker (The Hoof GP) works with half-ton cows that can kick you into next week. He does it with a smile, usually while his team—Craig and Cameraman Graham—are taking the mick out of him in the background.


I’ve just finished reading Code Brown (and his first book), and what struck me wasn’t just the farming. It was the electricity. Graeme is open about his Bipolar and ADHD, and you can feel that energy in everything he does.


Today, my own body is doing what I call "bouncing while flaring." My Endometriosis is shouting, but my brain is running at a hundred miles an hour. It’s a chaotic mix of high energy and chronic pain, and it made me realise I’m operating on the same philosophy Graeme lives by: Win or Learn.


The Accent that Changed Everything

One of the stories that stuck with me most wasn't about a cow at all. It was about the RAF. Graeme passed the physicals, passed the tests, and was ready to serve—only to be failed because of his accent.


It was an "embarrassing" rejection. It was unfair. But instead of letting that define him, he took it as a lesson. If he had joined the RAF, there would be no Hoof GP. No YouTube channel. No millions of views. It’s the ultimate example of a "Code Brown" moment turning into fertilizer for something better.


The "Have a Go" Hero

We live in a world that loves to over-plan (and over-worry). But when it came to rescuing Fiona, "The Loneliest Sheep," Graeme didn't wait for a safety assessment or a TV crew’s schedule. While the media were busy planning the perfect shot, he and his friends just went up the mountain and got her.


It reminds me of how we have to advocate for ourselves with disability. Sometimes, you can’t wait for permission. You just have to "have a go." Whether that is standing your ground against activists who don't understand the reality of the job, or standing up to a medical system that doesn't understand your pain.


The Real Cost of Grit

But let's not romanticize it. The job is brutal. Just before Christmas, Graeme nearly lost the use of two fingers from a cow kick. That isn't in the book—that is real life happening right now. It is a reminder that even when you are an expert, the risks are real.


The Verdict

Reading Code Brown felt like looking in a mirror—not because I want to trim cow hooves (definitely not!), but because of the resilience. It’s about showing up when you’re tired. It’s about laughing when things go wrong. And mostly, it’s about accepting that life is messy.


So, if you are having a "Code Brown" kind of day—whether it’s a flare-up, a bad meeting, or just a mess you can't clean up yet—remember the Hoof GP philosophy:


You don't lose. You either win, or you learn.


love






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