The menopause is a marathon, not a sprint, with consistent self-care key to spotting the early warning signs and managing the dips, writes Asha Clearwater. — THOSE Menopause Monsters are crafty. It’s not always the big bites that do the damage. It’s often the sneaky, little nibbles, the pecks that you don’t even notice as you carry on in your busy life. They have been out in force over the past couple of weeks, completely fooling…

As the world’s attention falls to climate change, Asha Clearwater writes about her love of trees, and how we need to care more for them. — MY eyes itch. There’s sawdust in them. Lots of sawdust. In the garden, right now, it looks like it’s been snowing. How can that be? It takes me a second, and then I feel the familiar pull on my heart. I’m crying again. I knew this moment was coming, but…

Time to up my self-awareness and change my ways to keep me moving along that road to recovery. — Stubbornness. I have it in bucket loads. Often to my detriment. It’s walked this path with me for a long time and knows just how to get my attention and bring me into line. It also has the perfect ‘antidote’ for any self-awareness. When I allow it to take charge…

When Covid comes knocking, it’s different for everyone. Though I had a relatively mild dose, I’m still feeling the effects but determined to gradually build up my physical and mental fitness again. For me, even the simplest tasks became a battle of mind as well as body. — Picking up dog poo. Putting out the rubbish and recycling. Not the most pleasant of tasks, but necessary ones. These things are part of my life.

A bad day in menopausal terms can be the pits, so what can we do to make it through in one piece? My menopausal First Aid kit helps me. It may help you too. — Menopause, at its worst for me, is like continually being plugged into the mains and shorting every few seconds. Sparks going everywhere. Some hitting my own body and mind, others hitting anyone or anything in proximity. It’s like a street lamp flickering madly on and off, until finally it gives…

Form filling is hardly a dangerous sport, so how can it leave me feeling so anxious? I’m betting my fellow drivers will understand. — MY hands are shaking. I can feel a dull headache coming on. My heart is racing. All this from filling in a form. Yes, really. Pathetic eh? But it’s not just any form. This form, or series of forms, represents everything to me. My hopes, my dreams, my sense of…

In April 2021 my wife and I celebrate 23 years together. We’ve lived and loved through an age of AIDS and Section 28, thanks to a quirk of fate missed a nail bomb attack, and have been subjected to homophobic bullying and verbal abuse. But through it all our love’s survived and thrived. — February is LGBTQ+ History Month. On the eve of my birthday, I’ve put together a very special timeline. One that reminds us all that #LoveIsLove

You know that enough’s enough moment? Imagine having that feeling for months and months and doing nothing about it. That was me. When MS came knocking at my door again, something HAD to change. It was my saving grace. Yes, really. — IT won’t work. I know it won’t work. I tell the client it won’t work. I explain why it won’t work. I am a journalist. Some may say an ex-journalist. You see, I went to the dark side.

When Diana, Princess of Wales, first shook the hand of an AIDS patient in 1987, it made global headlines, changed lives and attitudes. The most photographed woman in the world understood the power of touch. Do we? — I HAVE a confession to make. I have hugged. Several people. During Lockdown. There, I said it. *Looks around for blue flashing lights.* *Breathes deep.* A pause. It felt amazing. Like a supreme power prized open the rusty locks, opened my chest, unlocked my heart and let it fly freely.