I used to think the world was black and white. Good or bad. Perfect or useless. Marmite or Vegemite.

Then, the world kicked me in the ass a few times. Hard. And I saw it for what it really was, a million different greys (with a few purples and greens thrown in just to confuse the fuck out of me). Questions I’d never before considered started to gnaw on my nerves. What’s this life thing all about anyway?
Do any of us really know what the fuck we’re doing?
Is it OK to drink directly from the bathroom tap?
Could Vegemite actually have some redeeming features?
I’m a suicide survivor, humanist, feminist, volunteer counsellor and recovering perfectionist – who’s learning that while it’s OK to be great, it’s great to be OK.




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