When Virginia Woolf famously said a room of one’s own was necessary for a woman to write, she could not have envisaged a room that looked like the one below.
But for me, having my own space on the web in which to doodle my thoughts and write my life feels every bit as important as the hut at the bottom of the garden, for which so many women yearn.
Ever since I started blogging for the Birmingham Post, around 18 months ago, I have longed for my own little patch on the internet – a space that I have designed, that I manage and in which I can say what the Hell I like.
Waiting for my cyber-space
But I have had to wait, for all the reasons dear Virignia so well understands. My little boy, Arch, is now three-and-a-half and stays all day at nursery but for the first two years of his life, we had no childcare at all. My husband and I would swap work for the baby, literally picking one up and putting the other down. I didn’t have time to turn a computer on, never mind do anything creative once I had.
I have been through an experience that has rocked and shocked me – giving birth. I have been blissed-out beyond my imagining – lying with a sleeping new born on my chest. I have wanted to grab these experiences with both hands and squeeze every last drop I can from them. For me, that means writing about them. But I simply haven’t had the space or time.
A room of my own at last
Today all that has changed. With the help of my friends Chris Duggan and Emma Jones, I have created a website. The name has been chosen, the pages furnished, the images polished, the typos swept. My blog is a playroom, a study, a chapel, and a dance floor all at the same time. Welcome to my cyber-room – a room of my own.