Moots, mum and mutts.

  Today marked a milestone: my first ever law exam, sat in a hall packed with hundreds of students. Here in South Wales, beautiful sunny days are rare enough to be reported to the authorities — and today was one of them. So, it was with great reluctance that I pried myself away from the sunshine and drove to the University to tackle my Criminal Law paper. I had spent weeks preparing: posters, tests, quizzes, mocks, and a mountain of reading material. And yet, that gut-wrenching anxiety still hit — the kind that only strikes when you're facing a blank sheet of paper in a room thick with collective panic. The night before, I had planned everything like a well-oiled machine. Sadly, the oil turned out to be water, and my perfectly crafted night turned into a patchwork quilt of broken sleep: five rounds of 40 minutes stitched together with sheer desperation. First came the child-who-never-sleeps, refusing to surrender to bedtime — and, just to spice things up, treating us to both ...

  As I’ve previously mentioned (probably more than once), I’m very busy. Like, laugh-while-sobbing-into-your-coffee kind of busy. I’ve got so much on at any one time that finding a moment to revise feels like just another chore—right between feeding the cats and maintaining my family’s emotional stability. Yet somehow, I still find myself wanting to sit and read through my notes, to relive those magical days of lectures—where I got to absorb wisdom from inspirational lecturers, brilliant students, and my equally overloaded learner friends. Even though it was only a few months ago, it now feels like a lifetime—and everything I thought I remembered has dissolved into the foggy mist of my perimenopausal brain. The first week of the Easter holidays was so jam-packed with activities that it effectively deleted all memory of my noble (if occasionally feeble) attempts at a law degree. But today, I decided to silence the fear, squash the imposter syndrome, and declare: THIS is the d...

  “A MOOT Point: Mentorship, Mayhem and Mild Existential Crises” "You said you were busy?" During MOOT prep, I met a fellow student who, refreshingly, didn’t seem remotely scared by my “elderly” status (his words, not mine—but probably his thoughts). On the contrary, he looked quite eager to sponge up some of my life-earned wisdom, like a legal apprentice in the making. This bright-eyed young man introduced himself with the kind of glowing ambition usually reserved for movie protagonists or people running for president. He declared, with a grin wider than my student loan debt, that he intended to be a future world leader. I admired his confidence—it practically needed its own lanyard. Full of charm, smiles, and zero fear of wrinkles, he asked about my MOOT strategy and what my “intervention” might look like (making me briefly wonder if I’d accidentally joined a UN peace mission rather than a mock court). Flattered—and mildly stunned—I thought, “Wow. One of those boys actuall...

🧠 Etymology (if you're curious!) The term comes from Old English “mōt” or “gemōt,” meaning an assembly or meeting — especially for judicial or legislative purposes. Mostly Operating On Tea Admittedly, and with no shame, I had reached the age of 48 without ever knowing this word. I had never heard it, never even acknowledged it existed — and certainly never expected to take part in one in my lifetime. It first came to my attention when I started law school and saw that we were to be taught in MOOT court . I found the word funny-sounding in a naïve and infantile way. It sounded like something from a cartoon — a noise my children might have made unexpectedly, followed by the need for a follow-up apology. Never in a million years would I have imagined the seriousness of the term, the stress it would bring, or the huge amount of pride I’d feel once I’d completed it. I mentioned the word for the first time to my girl — a fellow mum and student who was retaking her first year — think...

 I know that the opinion of others should not come as an obstacle to success, yet I cannot stop myself from wondering what people are thinking when they meet me for the first time. I wonder if they see the woman first? The mother? The wife? The teacher? The student? I wonder in which capacity they envisage our interaction, and if I will be an added value or a no bother? We all want to be seen as valuable, as wanted and needed. But in what role? Usually, I can tell by where I stand and can adapt well to fit what is expected of me — but lately, I’ve found that this particular thought brings discomfort. Why should I change to adapt, and not the other way around? Why should I feel embarrassed by my characteristics depending on the company? And why are those particular traits seen with wariness? Skills and experience are by far what make a person desirable professionally — and interesting, at least, personally. So why are we constantly selecting who to be, just to fit in? Sitting...

  First Law Essay In fairness, I’ve always loved writing—since I was a child. Stories mostly, fan fiction occasionally, and letters to friends and family, even to this day. I adore putting pen to paper—literally—and seeing those beautiful lines on a white page become something meaningful. My mind has always been full of ideas, obsessions, and observations. That passion culminated a few years back when I wrote my biggest novel: Where We Belong . It had been a labour of love, and I was convinced I would, most certainly, be picked to become a best-selling author. But the reality didn’t quite match the dream. I couldn’t find an agent—never mind a publisher—and eventually decided to self-publish and design the covers myself. I suppose it gave me a huge sense of completion and pride, even though I missed out on advertising, networking, and the know-how to make it successful. Then life carried on. The delight and excitement I’d felt turned to slight embarrassment, then to hardly men...

 "Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much." - Helen Keller I don’t know if it’s because, as a teacher, I always used group work to help quiet children build confidence in showcasing their work, or because teamwork is now an essential skill for securing any job, but I was genuinely excited about working in a mature team of students, all striving towards a common goal. The first assessed group project in my law degree was a presentation. I was eager, convinced I had a lot to offer, and ready to step up as an effective leader. But reality fell short. Very short indeed. I was placed in a group of four—three younger students and me, a middle-aged woman. Our task: "What would you change for the better in law?" My mind buzzed with possibilities. So many laws could be improved, so many injustices to challenge. But as I looked at my teammates, I quickly realised that my idealistic view of teamwork was about to be tested. Two boys and two girls—well, one gi...

  First Day Jitters Getting accepted as a law student felt like a victory in itself. But the real challenge lay ahead—starting over and stepping into an unfamiliar world where I no longer felt in control. The thing is, when you're a teacher, you hold a certain power. You shape your students' learning, guide their progress, and influence their confidence with just a few words. You stand as an authority figure, with your day meticulously planned down to the last second. Everything is structured, monitored, and accounted for. The general public loves the myth that teachers have it easy, done by 3 PM, working a mere five hours a day, enjoying a comfortable salary and endless holidays. What they don’t see is the reality: the unpaid holidays, the never-ending workload that stretches long past the school bell, the relentless scrutiny, and the constant financial strain. That’s not even touching on the emotional toll, managing difficult behaviour, the guilt of missing work, the unpa...