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Finding my feet again... hopefully in a flower field somewhere.


So it’s been a funny few years. I lost a good friend and it made me spiral out of control into a pit of doom. I have pushed people away, hidden under a blanket and ignored the world around me.

I am trying to get myself back to a functional human being and whilst doing so I have realised I am lacking in one main department of my happiness… a career of some kind.

I have never had a career. I didn’t get any GCSE’s. I have an NVQ2 in hairdressing but can’t use it due to quite horrific tremors in my hands… I don’t think holding scissors next to someone’s face whilst shaking is that sensible really, although a unique selling point for Halloween. I have tried to work from home, earning from blogging and the BlogOn Conference but I am quite shit at it when I’m broken, so my income has declined quite dramatically over the past few years. I work at a local estate agents on a Saturday, doing viewings, which gives me some independence and time to myself(ish). I love it but I know it’s not the career for me and not something I can do full time and work around the children’s needs (I’d basically only earn what I pay out in childcare, plus there isn’t really any available for a 16yr old disabled child, which leaves me in a dilemma).

I am a creative, I love nothing more than making something, painting something or giving something a new life but creative jobs are often not that lucrative.


Whilst being at my lowest for a long time I discovered, got obsessed with, gardening and making things grow and look pretty. There is nothing more satisfying than planting something and watching it grow, a bit like parenting really. I have become one with nature. I love nothing more than buying the reduced, half dead, plants in the garden section and can almost hear them shouting ‘save me’ whilst I walk passed and can’t help myself but pick one up. Giving them a new lease of life in my happy space makes it a happier space for me… I know that makes me sound madder than the hatter.


I do the same ‘save me’ side step into the cut flowers area of most supermarkets too. I just can’t help it. 99p for a bouquet that cost £25 yesterday and is still going to last as long, is a no brainer for me. I have started treating myself once a week to make my home as happy as my garden… I have even started buying houseplants ready for keeping up the nature therapy in the winter months. Hoff is going to hate me by the spring, the house will look like a mini rainforest by then I expect.

With this new passion of saving florals from near death I have developed a love of floristry on Pinterest and Instagram. I am now thinking this is a great way of combining my love of creative designs, flowers, nature and lust of a new career into one.


I want to be a florist.

I am going to be a florist.

I just need to know where to start… But I will start and I will succeed, even if it takes me years.

Flowers are the future.

*it’s been at least an hour since I typed the last sentence… I got distracted looking up flower schools…. I just booked myself into a Flower School Workshop in London. This shit is real. Let’s hope I like it otherwise I am back to square one.

Art, Life, Mental HealthAlice Hassall