As I sat in my office a couple of weeks ago, a flurry of activity appeared out of nowhere by the...Read More
Author: Jude Peppis
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?