Be The Plot Twist

Heyooooo!

How’s everyone’s week?

Mine?

Well…

This week felt like one of those TV episodes where the main character barely appears.

You know the ones — the camera keeps cutting to everyone else’s storyline while the supposed protagonist wanders through a couple of blurry scenes looking a bit confused.

That was me this week. Just plodding along through life.

Meanwhile, everyone else’s plots were absolutely thriving.

New people drifted into my orbit in that unexpected, lovely way life sometimes allows.

A man from Switzerland with the most infectious laugh I’ve ever heard. A woman from the UK who offered to alpha-read my novel while simultaneously bossing her own life.

And a friend I reconnected with — only to learn he’d been in hospital… and is now out here grabbing life with both hands and dating an absolute smoke show like he’s the main character in a late‑season glow‑up montage.

Love that for him, honestly.

Meanwhile, I spent most of the week choosing… everything except myself.

Realising that stings a bit.

But I want to big myself up for a second, because it actually takes courage to notice when you’ve been putting yourself last. Sometimes the first step forward is just admitting it.

There were the quiet, complicated emotions that come with new people entering your children’s world — that strange cocktail of protective instinct, unspoken fear, and the hope that everyone will just land gently. Which it seemed to.

But there’s nothing quite like hearing a 7-year-old say a person is “just like you… but thinner.”

Ouch.

There was World Book Day chaos (the banana saga continues and honestly deserves its own Netflix documentary at this point. Possibly narrated by David Attenborough.)

There was work. Endless work. Fixing coffee machines like I’m personally responsible for keeping the entire nation caffeinated.

And in the tiny pockets of time that were technically mine, I filled them with rewatching Peaky Blinders and daydreaming about a future husband.

Honestly, that daydream changes weekly.

Currently I’m craving a Southern American accent. Tattoos. Slightly dangerous energy but secretly soft for the woman he loves. The kind of man who would absolutely call me something like darlin’ in a low voice and ruin my ability to function as a human being.

Think somewhere in the general cinematic region of Tom Hardy (fully aware he’s English, but I’m talking aesthetics here people), Theo James, or a morally questionable cowboy who appears halfway through a Netflix series and makes you reconsider every life choice you’ve ever made.

But despite all that excellent fictional research, I didn’t actually do anything that nourished me. (Although THE Seann Walsh liked and commented on one of my Threads responses, which gave me a frankly unreasonable rush of serotonin thanks to the level of hotness gracing my screen.)

But nothing that made me feel like the main character in my own story.

I keep thinking about the weeks where I did feel like the main character — the ones where I took some time for me, by taking a long shower and singing at the top of my lungs, doing something that made my chest feel warm, or going for a sunset walk on the beach with a soundtrack that made the world look softer.

Those tiny choices changed everything. They always do.

I just forgot to choose them this week.

So maybe the point of this week isn’t what happened.

Maybe it’s what I missed.

Maybe next week needs to look different. And maybe, if you’ve felt a bit like a background character lately too, you can pick one small thing that’s just for you in the week ahead. What would that look like? I’d love for you to try it with me, even if it’s something tiny. If you’re up for it, reply here and tell me what your one small thing will be. Let’s make this a little experiment for both of us, and see what choosing ourselves looks like together.

Maybe next week we could:

• write something just because it feels good
• go for a walk without rushing
• meet an old friend for coffee on Tuesday and remember the version of us that existed before life got quite this chaotic
• do something on Friday night that feels slightly rebellious for a woman who’s been living in mum‑mode and work‑mode — maybe a glass of wine, a film, music too loud in the kitchen, or just sitting somewhere that isn’t the sofa

This week was a side‑character week.

Next week, I’m stepping back into the frame.

Like a woman remembering she’s allowed to be the plot twist too.

Let’s take up some fucking space in this world. It’s big enough!

So, as always, let’s switch up the narrative, rewrite the script, and actually be the plot twist.

Mucho Love,

Katie