The end game

Two nights in a row, brimming with post ideas, I have sat on the couch beside my mother and laughed. Really laughed. A deep belly laugh that seems to bubble up from within. A laugh that heals, lightens, liberates.

Such a laugh that comes from a place of deep equality where you see yourself in the other and the other in yourself. A laugh that is only possible after honest exchange and frank sharing. The very kind of end game I dare to dream may, one day, be inspired by breaking the unspoken taboo’s of femininity.

So I am sure you will forgive me for laughing with my Mum, until we cryed hysterical tears, instead of writing blog posts.

Rachael