“Summer’s Here, So’s the Fear”

A poem about free school meals vanishing over summer.

Ah, summer—the season of sun,

Of ice creams and barbecues,

For families with money, it’s fun—

For us? It’s budgeting voodoo.

The bell rings its final term-time chime,

Kids cheer like it’s Christmas Day.

But for us, it’s hunger o’clock time—

Three meals, seven days? Okay.

During term, there’s magic—school food:

A hot meal, no charge, no shame.

Now it’s back on us—ain’t that good?

Oh look, poverty’s a game!

Let’s pack up a picnic of air and hope,

With a side of whatever’s on sale.

We’re gourmet chefs with no damn rope,

Crafting “snacks” from what’s least stale.

“Make it fun!” the leaflets say—

Turn lunch into a ‘learning goal.’

Sure, just teach my toddler to filet

A tin of beans with a broken soul.

The fridge hums low, a pale, cold ghost,

Cupboards hold their silent dreams.

One child longs for crisps the most,

The other weeps in quiet streams.

Tesco’s till says £42.90,

My purse says, “You’re joking, right?”

I put things back with hands all clammy—

Just rice tonight… with candlelight?

But hey, let’s not be bitter—

The government says, “It builds grit!”

They think hunger makes us fitter—

Character, forged while we eat… jack shit.

So cheers to the summer, raise your toast

(If you’ve still got bread to burn).

To struggling parents coast to coast—

May school meals soon return.

And when they do, we breathe, then brace—

A fragile calm in a brutal race.

For summer comes with quiet dread,

As empty bowls return instead.

Feeling the strain financially again this week. I did a food shop with what I had left in the bank and can't believe how very little I managed to get for my money.

Hey everyone

Is a cold and windy day this side

We are just indoors today

I’m currently off work sick due to burnout. My mental health is not good. I made the mistake of reaching out for mh support. I wouldn’t have done that unless it felt urgent because I’m autistic /nd and I know there isn’t really a mh service for us. I was told by the crisis team that I don’t meet the criteria. Another door shut in my face. No concern for how I can care for my disabled children while I get back on my feet either. Every system that should support, feels abusive to me. I’m taking things one day at a time and I’ve been doing some writing. It’s helping to organise the chaos in my mind.

The World as It Could Be

Being a changemaker sounds big and bold. But in reality, it often looks like this:

Crying quietly in your car after a meeting that went nowhere. Juggling your own survival while trying to help others feel seen. Getting up, again and again, because deep down you still believe people — and systems — can do better.

Over the years, I’ve worn many hats: advocate, organiser, community builder, mother, mentor, friend. Sometimes all at once. And every role has come with both deep joy and heavy emotional weight. There are moments that lift me — when someone says, “I didn’t think anyone saw me, but you did.”When a parent carer breathes out for the first time in weeks. When a woman in our community stands a little taller because she finally feels like she belongs. Those are the wins that don’t make headlines.

But they’re everything.

I hold a vision in my head all the time — a version of the world that’s fairer, softer, more human. Where people are supported, not shamed. Where our differences aren’t weaponised, but understood. I see glimpses of it every time community comes together — in rooms full of laughter, in shared rage, in collective hope.

But here’s the thing I’ve learned: for some, this kind of work is just a job. A role they clock in and out of. For people like me, it’s a way of being. It lives in my nervous system. It wakes me up at night. It bleeds into every conversation. It’s not just what I do — it’s who I am.

There’s an urgency, a fire, a constant drive to make things better

because the alternative feels unbearable. And that comes with a cost. Behind every joyful event, every workshop, every bit of change we push for — there’s frustration. Setbacks. People quick to judge, quicker still to believe false narratives. Systems that feel like brick walls. Constantly having to explain your worth, your need, your vision.

Sometimes it feels like you’re shouting into the wind. Sometimes it feels like no one is listening.

And still, you carry on. Because you have deep empathy.

Because you see people, not just who they are now, but who they could become if they were given a chance.

Because here’s what I know deep in my bones: This country would flourish if everyone had the chance to reach the potential I see in them.

I see brilliance in people who’ve been dismissed. Leadership in those written off.

Innovation in those surviving systems never built for them.

But that kind of thriving isn’t possible while so many barriers still exist.

Poverty. Prejudice. Red tape.

A lack of support, of belief, of care.

We don’t lack potential! we lack access!

And until that changes, people like me will keep fighting to open doors that should’ve never been closed.

I’ve learned this work can’t be done alone. You need people beside you who share your values.

Who show up even when it’s hard.

Who don’t ask you to shrink, soften, or explain your fire.

They’re your anchor.

Your mirror.

Your reminder that you’re not imagining it.

this world can be different.

And so I keep going.

Because I’ve seen too much light to let the darkness win.

Because change is slow, but not impossible.

Because I’m incapable of stopping.

Really struggling to remain focused and positive at the moment. Had the results back from my MRi to find out I need full reconstruction surgery on my ACL and meniscus of my left knee. The wait for an operation is 6-9 months if I'm lucky with and then the recovery will be another 9-12 months. I wish I could go private and get it done ASAP. So I'm not hobbling about after a neurodiverse 4 year old. If I could afford to go private the recovery period will be much less no doubt with intensive therapy but this isn't an option right now. My worry is how am I going to get 3 kids from nursery and school in 3 different areas while I'm in recovery and cant drive? My son's school is 25 miles away. I don't think I'll be able to afford taxis there and back. So the dilemma is, do I not have the operation and live in pain and the worry of my knee keep dislocating or do I have it and struggle to be a single parent?

I'm sure I'm not the only parent in the world who has put their kids before their own health and wellness but when does it get easier? Asking for a friend 🤣

Finding Universal Credit a bag of frustrations again and it’s getting me down. Earlier this week I had a good call with a course leader for an online part-time Masters programme. It sounds like I’d be well placed to secure a place on the programme so excitement abounded only to come crashing down when I began looking into how Masters loans interact with Universal Credit. Frankly I couldn’t understand it, after initial devastation (lazily I relied on Google which was no help and suggested the whole loan would be treated as income despite most of it being used for tuition fees) I was relieved a little to see something about it only counting 30% as income in recognition that 70% (in reality more) goes on tuition fees. So are we back on? Am I about to embark on a 2 year online masters? We’ll see, I want confirmation of the rules and will have to work out what it would mean for my finances but it’s possible!

"Even a stopped clock is right twice a day"

This week's big question got me reflecting on housing policy in general.

I'm no fan of our former Prime Minister Boris Johnson but he once had a remarkably good policy idea...perhaps typically it never got delivered. The idea was that Universal Claimants should be supported into home ownership and to do this government would instigate two specific but groundbreaking reforms.

First, savings in a Lifetime ISA (the government's preferred savings vehicle for a house deposit) would not count towards savings restrictions for Universal Credit purposes allowing UC claimants to not only save up if they can but to benefit from the government's 25% top-up. Secondly, that the housing element of UC could be used to fund mortgage repayments not just rent.

Dealing with the first point, it may well seem counterintuitive to be talking about UC claimants (most of us scraping by wondering if we can cover the bills each month) being able to put money aside for a house deposit but there are specific cases where this policy would be useful. For those who have recently separated and perhaps have a cash windfall from a house sale or even had significant savings built up but now find themselves on a solo (low) income with kids to house and feed the system says: spend your savings and then you can claim. Wouldn't it be more sensible if the system said: set that money aside for a house deposit, we'll let you claim until you can get into home ownership.

There is a benefit to government of UC claimants becoming home owners, which brings me to the bigger and more important second part of the policy. If UC could be used towards mortgage payments not just mortgage interest costs (as is the case now and even then it's not easy to claim) then eventually these housing element costs will fall and fall until they are non-existent as the UC claimant pays off the mortgage - surely its better for government to help people pay their mortgage and then save on housing element in the long term than ensure a generation of UC claimants are still claiming housing element into retirement? Not only this but allowing housing element to go towards mortgage repayments would open up home ownership to a wider group of people as mortgage lenders would now consider your total income (UC included) in mortgage applications (housing element is discounted by lenders because they know this part of your award will be ineligible once you move from rent to home ownership) and for those lucky enough to own their own home but unfortunately fall on hard times it would mean UC could prevent defaults and repossessions.

Combined with an expansion of shared ownership homes available and even expansion of the existing but small scale 'right to part buy' scheme, this could be a truly radical policy that would give hope to millions.

I’m feeling a bit exhausted from work. I feel like not going into work but I need to get up, get dressed and go win today. Sometimes, I feel I need to go out more often to spend time alone. I just want to wake up in a lovely hotel by the sea.. The biggest problem is how do I afford this trip. Some day one day.. I’m gonna achieve that. I will look back to this memory and smile☺️.

I don’t have much money now and am waiting for month end.

Not much healthy food in the cupboards and I feel bad that I have to cook bread and baked beans for supper most nights.

Another bill! ! I actually get anxious when I get an email. I drew up the strength and called the water company. I was embarrassed and retraumatised again having to tell my survival story. The reason I have debt due to fleeing domestic abuse. The customer service lady on the phone was so kind, compassionate and supportive. We put in a payment plan and she asked if I was getting support.

After the call I realised I’m doing the best I can on low income but the trauma of the domestic abuse affects my mental and emotional health and effects this has on my income (a lot sick leave). However moments of kindness and support show I am a survivor and doing best for my son and I. However more support for all genders of domestic abuse survivors and the financial impact would be amazing. So I make a cup of tea with mug my son bought me and plough on …

This month and next feels like a series of expensive issues. The car has got punctures in two new (part-worn) tyres so I had to pay for a repair and another replacement.

The dog requires some treatment at the vets which I will have to use my credit card for.

The bills have all increased.

There are things that need replacing / repairing in the house which I think "I'll pay for that next month" but then something else happens and the money is required for that.

It feels like constantly treading water whilst hoping for someone to throw a life ring at me.

Grateful for the better weather this last week so at least I don't have to put my heating on and listen to the boiler creaking and groaning (one of the many things that needs replacing).

Feeling worried because food shopping has become a luxury