Personal Stories

Laura Morgan: Live the life you want to, not the life you think you should

At the top of this page under the title, we have the words “Live the life you want to, not the life you think you should”. It’s a sentiment we try to embody, and one that seems to resonate with lots of people. When some fellow and favourite writers started asking if we accepted guest posts, we initially weren’t sure how to approach it. We wanted to feature their writing, but how best to do it? We found our answer in the strapline. So here begins the first of our guest post series where talented writers respond to our mantra: “Live the life you want to, not the life you think you should”. We hope you enjoy it.

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Where is home?

“Where’s home for you now?” said Olly as we strolled along the South Bank, catching up on almost 20 month’s absence on a path we’ve walked countless times before.

It’s one of my favourite places in London, the walk from London Bridge to Waterloo along the river, past Borough Market, St.Paul’s, the Tate, the theatres and with Big Ben glowing in the distance.

When I was at university, riding the bus across the river at night filled me with awe at the magnificence of the city and the millions of lives that breathed within it. I was one of those lives. I called the city home for ten years and it still holds a house in my name and is the city I know the best. It’s where I chose to step out alone and build my own life. I love it, but would I call it home?

The words I needed to hear

When I first heard about Per, he sounded like an archetypal compulsive liar, full of the tallest of tales that would put to shame Frank Abagnale Jr. In a town like Ubud, you have to have your bullshit detector on. Then I met him, and the doubts were gone. This man, the youngest of ten … Read more

Venting frustration

I woke up that morning, fed up and tired with this journey. The rats had returned to the ceiling, causing another disrupted night’s sleep while they played gymnastics above our heads, the thin plaster amplifying their patter to the sound of elephants’ hooves. Tonight we’d have to re-plug in the sonic repeller, pushing aside any … Read more

Barcelona with a baby- Hotel Barcelona Catedral

Memories of Hayling Island

One day you see a photo on Facebook that brings back pangs of childhood memories that will never be relived because the two people you wish for most aren’t there. But this time, instead of crying, you wish you were there, because the memory lives on without the faces you miss, and continues in the … Read more

Tom and Steve watching the sunset on Gili Air

When friends come to visit…

When friends come to visit, it’s not the time to write. It’s time to explore, …share your favourite restaurants, …drink colourful drinks, …and spot faces in walls. It’s a time to drink fancy coffee, …take a trip (or three) to the spa, …brave the monkey forest, …and then learn to wood carve when it rains. … Read more

On healing, guilt and self-discovery – part two

A continuation of last week’s post, On healing, guilt and self-discovery – part one

It’s a guilt that comes from the knowledge that what I am doing is a luxury. I’m confused and I fret about what I should do next, but the very fact I can ask that question is a wild privilege that I struggle to accept gracefully. It’s partly a matter of cultural privilege, but a personal one also. I can afford to sustain my current life because I bought a house with my parents’ inheritance and am able to live partly off the income. It isn’t a long-term solution. I don’t want to rely on that money and I work hard to earn my own, but I also have to work hard to allow myself to make the most of the opportunity that has been bequeathed.

Europe Road Trip - Santa Margherita Ligure

On healing, guilt and self-discovery

There’s nothing like a trip home for a case of the ‘Who am I’s’… I approached it with trepidation, and was left with a sinking mix of guilt, confusion and unease. Trips of old had taught me that a return to the UK was always a disorientating experience— new lessons and growth struggling to stay … Read more

On goodbyes and what comes next…

Eleven years ago, I left a little town in Sri Lanka with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. I’d been there two months and fallen in love with the place and its people. Multiply that feeling by a hundred and you have how I feel today, leaving San Pancho behind. For … Read more

On plans and patience…

I’ll be straight up with you. Writing this post was a pickle. Clarity has been like a soap in the bathtub – I can see it but it slips away with every grasp. Trying to write it down has filled this page six times over and led to picking apart. Only one thing is sure: … Read more