Breakfast at Tiffany’s

From the opening scene of a New York street in the early morning, I could feel Holly’s sadness and longing as she peers into the window of Tiffany’s jewellers on her way home from a night out. So many times I had been in the same position; high heels in my hands, feet sore from dancing, satin dress wrinkled and makeup smudged, sunglasses on my eyes to block out the morning sun rather than facing the day.

Looking so fabulous in a long black dress and pearls, I was hiding insecurities behind a wildly unstructured lifestyle, flirting with strangers and searching for something untouchable, sometimes bringing the wrong guys to my bedroom. Running from a past where hearts were broken with hasty words. I kept running into myself wherever I went. Running so nobody could own me, I was angry, sensitive, intense and lonely. Until one day it all came crashing down with a room full of feathers and I was crying in the rain with the cat.

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