Freya Hill



I had expected that after the birth of my daughter, I would miss ‘me’. My independence, my body, my time, my sleep. In fact, I missed what I missed more was us; my husband and I. Our time together, our independence as a couple.  It felt like we were floating adrift from each other; two…

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Home Grown: Home, Belonging and Identity

The young lawyer wrote fervently; the remnants of his lunch pushed aside as he took notes with pen and a hastily produced paper.  I was discussing the legal definition of a dwelling, over lunch on the weekend. The four of us young professionals were seated around a table at a busy cafe and I was outlining…

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In Good Company

I jokingly asked a friend recently if they were the weird kid at school, and he said ‘Well yes, but isn’t everybody. Nobody feels like they fit in at school.’ Perhaps this is true. As a child, I didn’t really know or care if I was the weird kid, but I certainly had a few…

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Let Your Love

  Last weekend, a couple of cool cats I care for, celebrated their love by getting married. It was a fabulously fun and inclusive day, with friends and family contributing their talents in many ways. Sarah suggested I give a reading, and maybe a poem, and maybe a poem I had written? I’m not much…

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Superman’s Bad Day

This post really should be titled ‘The Power of #failure’, but that sounded too much like the title you’d see for some kind of wacky TV self-help show which you accidentally end up watching in those insomniac hours between night and morning.  Plus I rather liked the photo, taken outside a museum in Berlin. The…

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