Moots, mum and mutts.

First Talk as a Researcher That’s it. I’ve officially delivered my first ever talk as a researcher. And yes, it was nerve-wracking. But it was also everything I had hoped it would be. First, the like-minded people: Being surrounded by professionals who share my values, people who are genuinely committed to the success of their learners, was the best audience I could have wished for. Then there were the important people: the governors, the boss’s boss, and all those who needed to scrutinise my work from the past year and decide whether it had been worth the time (and money). And, of course, my research lead, who I really didn’t want to let down. The day didn’t start well. My car had a puncture, and I had to rush home to swap for my husband’s car (luckily, he didn’t need it that day). I then drove into the centre of Cardiff to teach my learners until 12pm, knowing I had to be back and ready to present by 1pm. What should have been a 30-minute drive turned into nearly an hour of ...

Isn’t That the Whole Point of Research? Almost a year ago, a message popped into my inbox from an old friend. We’d been close for over 15 years, our daughters are the same age, and having gone through similar life experiences, we naturally connected. But as life often does, time and responsibilities had diluted our contact. We both worked for the same organisation, Adult Learning Wales,  in fact, she was the one who originally recommended me for the role. Still, until that email arrived, we hadn’t seen much of each other. The email was a callout inviting tutors to submit a research proposal for a year-long project. I’ve always loved learning, and the idea of being paid to learn, instead of paying to be taught, was thrilling. So I applied. Truth be told, it felt like the perfect excuse to reconnect with my friend and dive into something intellectually exciting. Discussing educational strategies and sharing ideas again felt like a gift. Now, on the eve of delivering my final pr...

Today I received my results for completing my first year as a law student . I know I only studied part-time, but it still felt like a real achievement. And let me tell you — it was an anxious time. This wasn’t just results day. No, no. It was also Transition Day at work — when little Year 6 primary pupils swarm into our comprehensive school like wide-eyed meerkats, trying to figure out what a Bunsen burner does and whether I’m a teacher or a scary dinner lady. Normally, I love that day. It’s exciting and busy and I thrive off the energy. But this morning , their delightful neediness was unbearable. I just wanted one minute to log into the university portal and check if I had made it . Before leaving the house, I’d sent a good luck message to my co-mooters (we’re basically a team of courtroom gladiators now), wishing them amazing results. But as the morning went on and my phone buzzed like a toddler on a sugar high, my nerves started to rattle . By lunchtime — after multiple l...

The reason I wanted to study law in the first place was to understand how the system works. I had been on the receiving end of sex discrimination. I lost my job, my place in the community, and was cast aside by people who chose to listen to old men in positions of power rather than those who truly serve the community and have its best interests at heart. The fight was bitter. It was unfair. But I believed in my case. I refused to let my daughter see a mother who backed down. I am a strong woman. I am a mother. And I was raised by a strong mother who taught me to stand up for what is right. So, after two years of thinking about that courtroom—of living and breathing the details of my case—I won. And now, it’s time to let it go. It’s time to move on and look at the future I might have in the legal world. The truth is, I am capable of so much. Yet society tried to tell me who I should be. When I stepped outside that mould, I was shamed. Guilt-tripped. Silenced. But society is chang...

  The Power of a New Haircut ( or how I accidentally became fabulous again ) The last time I had a proper haircut—like, sit-in-a-chair-and-be-transformed level—was probably somewhere around 1998. Back when my biggest responsibility was deciding whether to go out-out or just stay in with a good book. Since then? Kids. Life. Bills. And a deep-rooted belief that paying actual money just to remove dead bits of myself (i.e. hair) was… unnecessary. But I was wrong. So very wrong. After what felt like months of pure exhaustion (but was apparently only two weeks), my beloved family staged a gentle intervention: “Go get your hair done,” they said. “You're starting to blend in with the laundry basket,” they said. Charming. So, I called my local hairdresser’s, secretly hoping they’d be fully booked until at least 2027. But no. “Can you come in at 10?” they said. It was 9:01. I panicked. I showered. I considered faking an allergic reaction. Then I went. Now, don’t get me wrong...

  I’ve always been someone who keeps busy. I can still remember powering through colds while running a house with three little ones, a husband, a job, and an ever-growing list of after-school activities—coping just fine, or so it seemed. But somewhere along the way, that ship has sailed. These days, I find myself struggling to bounce back from things that would’ve barely made a dent before. This year alone, I’ve had the flu twice—once in December, and again in February. Both times I was completely wiped out. Still, I pushed through. I told myself it was the exams, the toddler’s sniffles, the teenagers' dramas. Surely not my body asking for rest—just life being life. Then, the warning signs came again. A little wheeze. A bit of breathlessness after walking the sausage dog. Nothing serious, I thought… until I heard strange rattling sounds in my chest, followed by coughing and dizziness. In typical dramatic fashion, I wondered if I was having a seizure. Once I calmed down, I reali...

  Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I present to you Exhibit A: my study area, which until yesterday resembled the aftermath of a legal textbook explosion at a coffee factory. After six weeks, a criminal Law exam, a presentation on Juries, a SWOT analysis on my future law career and SMART objectives, endless posters on criminal cases and Law and the State functions and approximately 97 mental breakdowns, I have officially completed my law exams for the year! Criminal Law, Law and the State, Legal Skills, and Legal System – all conquered (I hope) despite my part-time student juggling act. As tradition dictates, I've now entered that peculiar purgatory known to students everywhere – the post-exam limbo where you're simultaneously relieved it's over, terrified of what's to come, and confronted with the archaeological dig that was once your study space. The Great Note Migration This morning, I finally mustered the courage to tackle "The Pile." You know the one – t...