Author: Jude Peppis

A mother’s walk of shame

When I was at university, I stumbled home one Sunday morning with bags under my eyes and spilled cider and black down my (cream) top after a heavy night ended by crashing on my gay best friend’s sofa. It was my first “walk of shame” – a journey largely spent with my head down low rooted in paranoia that everyone was talking about me.
Nearly 15 years later (!), why do I get that same feeling in the pit of my stomach when walking TJ to nursery?

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Baby on Board

It started with a badge. When I hadn’t even told my parents yet about the impending arrival, I filled in a Transport for London online form to request the little pin which would grant me a seat on public transport over the coming months. When it finally arrived (the badge, not the baby), I excitedly adorned myself with it and hopped on the packed commuter train to work feeling like the whole world was looking at me. They weren’t. One lovely man did catch my eye and kindly asked a man near to him to move his bag off...

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