I grew up loving law.
The clean lines of reason,
the weight of words,
the promise of justice.
I earned my place at university
but not my place in myself.
Confidence was a language I hadn’t yet learned
so I stepped aside and life carried me elsewhere.
An office.
Routine.
Two beautiful children.
A life full of love,
yet a quiet ache for the path I’d left behind.
Then came the silks,
bright ribbons of possibility suspended in the air.
Aerial arts found the part of me I thought I’d lost.
The courage to climb,
the strength to hold on,
the belief that I could rise.
I taught others.
I performed.
I stood before thousands,
wrapped in light and motion,
and for the first time I felt the pulse of self‑belief steady and strong.
But even in the spotlight something whispered,
You’re not finished yet.
So in the year of the Horse,
a year of bold steps and unstoppable momentum,
I quit the office,
released the silks,
and turned toward the dream I had once been too small to claim.
Now I walk forward with the strength I learned in the air,
the resilience of a mother,
the clarity of a woman who refuses to live with regret.
This is my new leaf: not a gentle turning,
but a deliberate unfurling,
a declaration that I can and I will become the lawyer I always meant to be
which started here, at the Open University.
