Life is unpredictable,

It changes with the seasons.

Even your coldest winter,

Happens for the best of reasons.

And though it feels eternal,

Like all you’ll ever do is freeze.

I promise you spring is coming.

And with that,

brand new leaves.

 

FIRST POST… ✔️

imageI guess we should start somewhere.. Right?
Hi! My names Britney. I was born and raised in a tiny town in New Zealand. I’m 18 and my life goal (at this point) is to see every single part of this beautiful globe.

This blog will consist of everything me.
I feel like I have so much to say but nowhere to put all my thoughts..
So here it shall stay😍

Look forward to all my updates; all my struggles and triumphs, travel adventures (once I jet set off), food, fitness, happiness and freedom.

For an 18 year old I’ve experienced a lot. The list is long. But isn’t everyone’s?
People say I’ve been to hell and back but on the trip I’ve learnt so much.
And one of the most important things that I’ll forever be thankful for is that I have my health and as long as I have that, nothing else truly matters. Life is beautiful 😍

I love quotes maybe a little too much, I spend way too much time on Instagram and Pinterest, wanting my life to be “pinable” Which one day I hope it will be ☺️

Who knows where I’ll end up or where I’ll even be in a years time but I know I’ll get there and it will be better than anything I could ever imagine.

“You were born with the ability to change someone’s life.. Don’t ever waste it.”

Britney Rose x

SUCCESSFUL SISTERS?

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Growing up, me and ash would always just be known as “the girls” because we looked so alike, both with blonde hair and bright blue eyes… no one could tell us apart. I was her shadow. I grew up just wanting to be EXACTLY like my cooler, older, prettier sister. In my eyes she was so good at everything… especially sport and the boys always liked her –  thats all I wanted, too.

I wanted to be liked and be called pretty and successful and smart. Ugh.

She did so well at school and she always knew the trendy way to do her hair. I felt like the lame’o little sis who just wore her hair in a messy bun.

Brits. The brit bun.

She got a really good opportunity in her final year of high school – pretty much an apprenticeship to be a pharmacy technician. In Hawera, our small little town. Everyone knew her and always said how proud they were of her. I wanted the same. She had a house, a boyfriend, a dog… her life was put together. All settled down. I wanted that. I thought success was the things you had to show…

I was so wrong.

She’s happy. She’s content and she’s successful but I don’t think success can even be measured the same with different people.

I was looking at photos this morning and I saw these two.

 

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One of me the day I brought my flights to London..

 

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and one of the day Ashleigh got her qualification.

 

We are both holding a piece of paper.

Both smiling, both happy and both successful.

I’ve always compared myself to my sis and I’ve always found flaws in the way I’ve done things compared to her. I’m so critical of myself because I’ve never been (in my eyes) as good as ash at stuff. But being away and on my own has made me see how capable I actually am at things.

I’m packing up my little life once again and cramming all I own into 23kgs of luggage.

I have nothing to physically show from my success because all my money has gone on Contiki tours, flights and experiences.

And while I don’t have much to show, I’ll have so so so many good stories to tell.

And I’ve learnt,

I’d rather have stories to tell than piles of things in a house anyways

I’m happy and I’m so free.

Little bees, you’re doing alright.

Go and live some more

X

MY DAD.

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I’ve had a few people message me and ask me to write a post about my dad. I was hesitant at first and thought ‘naaahhhh no one wants to hear me blab on and on about stuff that happened 10 years ago.’ But then again, I know that if someone older went through what I had gone through, wrote a post about how they dealt with it and how they’re feeling years on… I would have read it. So in a way, this is a letter to my younger self or to any other littles out there that wanna hear how I dealt with some pretty shitty times.

Now I truly don’t know how detailed to make this because I guess its pretty personal but in a way, this shaped me to be who I am today. I honestly think if i still had my dad present in my life, I’d be a completely different person.

9 years on & I can’t completely sum up how or what I feel right but all I know is that,

I love my dad for all he did right & I forgive him for all that he did wrong.

But it hasn’t been all rainbows and butterflies and I’m not going to sugar coat this at all because I hated that man. This isn’t going to be some happy go lucky post about love and lessons because honestly I think this is always going to be an open wound for me. But I’ve learnt that letting go of things is the go. Most of the shit we hold onto isn’t even ours to carry anyways.

Growing up, the memories I have of my dad are some of the best. He was always the fun dad. We grew up on the farm and he would always chuck us on the back of the bike and take us to fun hideouts he’d create just for us. He shared my love for salt and vinegar chips and always played my favourite song ‘The Gambler’ because he knew I loved it. He coached rugby and it was one of the best feelings in the world when he would take me along to practices and games. Everyone knew me as his little girl. I was a daddy’s girl and absolutely loved. Life was magical. I truly adored that man of mine.

I don’t completely know all the details about when shit hit the fan and I’m glad I don’t but somewhere along the line, mum and dad fell out of love… and I think that is fine. Years ago, I didn’t. I didn’t understand how two people who created a life together, got married and had babies can just not love eachother anymore – didn’t make sense to me. But from my minimal experiences with my two boyfriends, I get it (on a tiny tiny tiny scale). Some things are just better apart, even if they once fit together well.

I think it all started to fall apart when we stopped farming. Dad got a job at the intermediate and mum starting being girl Friday at Vector.

Anyways, one way or another things went wrong. Somewhere, somehow. I think they tried to make it work for a long time for us kids. Dad moved away to coach rugby in a different town about 4 hours from us. As far as I knew, mum and dad were still together then, he just had to move for work. No worries, you do what you can for your kids.

One memory I’ll never ever forget ever is when dad told us he had had an affair.

He took us to a park and said to ash and I…

“Girls, you know how Chris Warner had an affair with Rachel on Shortland street?”

(Shortland street is New Zealand’s version of home and away & we were big fans)

“Yeah dad?”

We said.

“Well I did that.”

“What? With who?”

He told us it doesn’t matter who it was…

“Just take care of your mum.”

He said.

Honestly at this point dad didn’t seem too upset so I shrugged it off because he did. We went back to mum who was at the house dad was living at in Taupo. She was crying on the couch but said she was fine.

We would travel to stay with dad every other weekend & it was a fucking trek. Looking back mum was a legend. She purely did that for us… Something must have been wrong because every single time we stayed there, mum would sleep on the ground with us in the spare room.

Years later I found out that mum had found photos on dad’s camera of a candle lit dinner. But he’d never had a candle lit dinner with her??? And she found a womens jacket in the wardrobe that wasn’t hers…

He did it again.

Every other weekend when we weren’t there, he had another lady there.

A different one this time.

Shit hit the fan and dad came back to Hawera… only to pack up his things I think. It was around Christmas time and he sat us down, told us “I’ve done it again” and said he was flying out to Australia on Christmas Eve.

YUP.

CHRISTMAS

EVE.

He brought me a box of roses and the miles Cyrus CD, wrapped it and left it under our tree. He woke up on Christmas Eve morning, I remember looking out my window to see him with his suitcase, walking to the car. Mum drove him to New Plymouth airport. He tapped on the boot and walked away. That was that. Hawera is so small and gossip spreads like wild fire. So many stories. My poor mum.

That was the last time I’d see that man for almost 3 years. From that point onward I didn’t speak to him. I guess the way that he’d hurt my mum, I just didn’t agree with it. It wasn’t my burden to carry because it wasn’t my relationship to keep. But the fact he would walk away so easily from not only his wife but his two babies. I’ll never understand. Ugh.

He left mum with a huge mortgage and two young girls.

She managed… but she was broken. she hid it well. Think thats where I learnt it from.

My mum was diagnosed with bowel cancer shortly after my dad left. I blamed him so much. But I know now that it was nothing to do with him (i think idk) I blamed myself a lot too. She was sick as fuck. And seeing the one person you’ve got left, be sick. mmmmm my heart.

I was so young and grew up so fast. I clung (maybe still cling) to people I connect with because I don’t know how long I have until they’re ripped from me, or until they leave. I have huge trust issues. I’m scared to love but need love. I love too hard and too easy. And most of the time I break my own heart with expectations of how it should be.

I hated my dad for so long. The last time I saw him was back in 2012, twice. He flew over to New Zealand when mum died. And we stayed with him in Adelaide for like 10 days later on that year. I was lost. I wanted something but it wasn’t him. I wanted the dad I had growing up but because I was older and knew more stuff, I just felt gross looking at him. Its a weird feeling to describe but makes me honestly feel like spewing my guts out.

I talk to poppa about him a bit. I usually go to him in tears and I’m so angry because I just want my dad to love me. I’ve begged him to be a dad and raise me and make rules for me and be there for me. I just wanted him to want to be there for me but he never ever was… I think I pushed him too far away back in the day and now he’s too scared. Which is fair.

Pops helped heaps. We lived with the olds when mum passed away and ash moved out when she was 18. So I had a good few years of living with them alone. Me and pop have had so many chats about my dad. Ash has a different view to me, which took me awhile to accept but I’m fine with it now. She has always had something to do with dad ever since he left and we would CONSTANTLY clash heads whenever she would come back from seeing him.

99% of the time, my view on him is manageable. I just simply don’t agree with the way he handled things because in my honest opinion, if you aren’t happy in a relationship… LEAVE.

But like pop tells me and that man is hardly ever wrong,

“at the end of the day he’ll always be my dad”

People made me go to councillors and try to talk my feelings away, but I hated it. I don’t need some bitch with a clipboard and pen to tell me how to heal. No thank you. I don’t have a recipe that’ll heal how you’re feeling because I’m almost 20 and I still have shit days when I remember what happened. But how I deal with it is this..

I moved. (you probably don’t have to move like idk don’t even listen to this one, I’m just saying it helped ME)

I write a lot of shit down, just to get it out of my head. (Like legit i have over 3,000 notes in my phone of shit ill probably never post)

I cry.

I laugh.

I explore.

I stop and look around.

I’m here for a reason, as are you.

I have no idea where I’m heading and I don’t even know how I ended up in Sydney, but regardless. Here I am. Living.

I’m broken because of what i’ve been through. I’ve missed out on heaps but I’m seeing now that my dad is the one missing out too.

I’m still not on speaking terms with him. We’re friends on Facebook but nothing more. I tried to message him but no reply.. same old. But i figure, sitting around and being upset is fucking bullshit because I have so many people who give a shit about me. So why am I sitting here being sad over the ones who don’t?

If you ever stumble upon this,

I love you dad.

I miss the way you’d butter toast – that’ll always be my favourite.

And to the ones reading this or needing this,

time is a tricky bugger.

It heals most things,

but not all things.

x

ONE YEAR LATER!?


27/07/2016 
Thanks to Facebook memories (because mines shocking) for reminding me that this time exactly a year ago, I created this little space for myself… 

britneyroseblog was born.
One year later. In a different country. Completely different mindset, completely different location, around completely different company… in a way, right now i’m living a completely different life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still the same old Bee that I’ve always been… my favourite dinner is still butter chicken (although I can’t have Damo’s kind because I’m too far from home, any kind will do for now) still hate sleeping alone & I still love the smell of deep heat & the sound of rugby boots running along concrete. But a year has passed and I’ve met so many different, new & exciting people who have brought something (big or small) to my life. 
I think the person who stands out the absolute most is Moe. 
This time last year, I had absolutely no idea what I was heading for. I hadn’t even started looking into nanny jobs yet. I was working my shitty little job, spending more money than I was making, living with josh & honestly making us both miserable. I was so unhappy, not because of him but because of me. (Ok it’s not what it sounds like “its not you, it’s me” but honestly it was) like I don’t think he’s been given enough credit for the shit I put him through. We spent 2 and a half years together & id truly do it all again. But throughout those years, I was so unhappy. In my last year of high school, I was miserable. I’d literally leave nan and pops house before the sun came up…just so I didn’t have to see them (long story, I was a moody bitchy teen) drive to joshys (I had a key to his door ahahaha omfg cute) still in my pjs, id bring my school uniform and hop into bed with him, we’d sleep for like 2 more hours because honestly I use to get there at like 6am everyday, then we’d get ready for school, although I hardly went because I’d skip class a lot, then school would finish and I would hangout with him until 10pm when I knew my olds would be in bed, drove home, slept and did it all over again. Looking back, I was stupid. I avoided the olds because I was unhappy but didn’t want to talk about why, so I just avoided it all together. 
Josh is a trooper honestly. He was my safety net. My Kim. We were just kids, so young and dumb. But he loved me. And that’s all I needed, was to feel loved and wanted. We moved in together at the end of high school. And I think being around each other all the time, every single day, sleeping together every single night, the novelty wore off. We didn’t have our own space and I see that now. It was too much too quick. We just wanted to be in eachothers pockets but the honeymoonness, didn’t last long. 
I love that boy and I think I always will. 2 and a half years, how do you just switch that off? My kim. X
I think when it all started to click for me, that I could be happier and there was more to life than teenage love & settling down was when I went and stayed in Queenstown with my Jordan. She was studying down there and I saved up a few weeks of pay, booked a flight and escaped for a little bit. I was down there with her and being somewhere new made me so excited.. I told her what I wanted to do, about nannying and she believed in me 100%. I missed josh though & was anxious to be so far away from him.. but then I got back home and realised it was just the same shit, different day. He had his life, his rugby, his family and I just chucked myself right in the middle of it all. I didn’t want to take away his freedom or independence because after all, he’s a dude. Dudes need to be around other dude, they need to sleep with different chicks and fuck around..they can’t be settled down at 18 with a wife and kids. Life needs to be lived and he needed one without Brits. 
Finding renee and the boys was the best thing for me and it happened at the most perfect time, unbeknown to me. I wasn’t aware of the extent of moes disability before I arrived. And I was honestly a little bit naïve to it all. Oblivious that things like that are out there… he was the one thing I was dreading. How was I going to change someone’s nappies? How was I going to feed someone who could easily bit my fingers off? He can’t talk!? How will I even know what to do?? I had so many questions. I was so overwhelmed. 
But FUCK, the one thing I was dreading turned out to be the thing I love the most about my job.

I love that human. My Hunan. I love that brown eyed creature. I love the way he loves me back and we’ve never even shared a single word. He has taught me so much in the time I’ve shared with him. He’s also spewed on me and has the most explosive shits ever (the flight coming back to Sydney from LA, that’s a story and a half holy fuck… maybe I’ll tell it one day) but regardless of the pop, I still absolutely adore that muppet. I’ve had some challenging days and I’ve gotten so so frustrated but all I know is that if I had a disability like moe, where I couldn’t walk very well, talk at all, feed myself or even scratch myself when I’m itchy, I’d want someone to love me, regardless of if i piss the bed or if I have the sorest tummy that I shit all the way up my back (I have some horrid stories, you can’t even imagine) 
I think people come into your life for specific reasons. Some people leave your life for certain reasons too. The lessons might not be obvious, they probably won’t make sense at the time but weeks or years could pass & you’ll realise why certain things sometimes happen. 
Moes outlived his life expectancy. If he had lived only to the age he was meant to, I would have never even met him.

Imagine that!? 
Time heals most things in life, but not all things. A year has passed and I’m living in a different country, oh so single & honestly pretty content with where I am. I’m flying to Europe in 28 days… and I’m so ready. 

So much has changed in a year & yet, I’m more me than I’ve ever been. 
Can’t wait to get out of Syds though,

Too many people know me now… I can’t hide very well anymore. No fun! 
28 more sleeps until I pack up & runaway all over again. 😍🐝🌎✈️

MUSIC MADNESS 🎶 


I heard a song the other day that I use to blast when I first got my license. I’d put it on repeat and drive down to Waihi beach.. the only place in hawera with a pretty good view considering that you are still in hawera. In my little sliver Honda, my shitty radio, just me & my music. The song was “Runaway” by Ed Sheeran. One of my all time favourites. 
Actually made me think though, isn’t it funny how years pass and you hear a song that you use to listen to in your car when you were so so sad and time goes on, you hear it again and oh so much has changed. 
The two songs I was in love with (actually still gives me shivers when I hear them now) when I flew to Sydney was ‘Say You Won’t Let Go’ but James Arthur and ‘Dancing On My Own’ by Calum Scott. 
There’s a few songs that I can’t listen to anymore. Mums funeral song when we were walking in was ‘Purple Rain’ Stan Walkers cover & the song that played on the slideshow during her funeral ‘Who Knew’ by P!NK. There’s only a few times, every now and again that I feel the urge to hear those two songs, the lyrics and the feelings I get when I hear those words… my heart actually stings.
“Free” by Rudimental has always had a huge place in my heart and so many people from home have told me they instantly think of me when they hear that song… I’ve always loved it but lately I’ve started to love it more. The lyrics are second to none and I truly sit there and just find myself agreeing with most of the shit they say. 
Music is a pretty powerful thing honestly. When you think about it..It connects so many people who wouldn’t have really crossed paths otherwise. Simple lyrics give us creatures a common ground, a conversation starter. How beautiful.  
“Dive” by Ed Sheeran has to be up there in my favourites list too. I relate too hard to the lyrics because what I get from the song is that he’s basically talking about loving things too hard and that should be tattooed on my fucking forehead. 

one part of the song says 

“So don’t call me baby, unless you mean it.” 

And LEGIT I FUCKING FEEL THAT IN MY SOUL. 
People have different tastes, opinions and views – someone once said to me “that’s what makes the world go around.” I guess that’s the same with music, they write & sing about things that they give a shit about and it’s insane to me that you can relate so hard to something someone else wrote. 
“Resolution” & “Brother” both by Matt Corby are stunning. I think out of the two, resolution has to be my favourite though.
I think I just generally like songs that actually talk about shit. Like have meaning. I use to absolutely love one direction but I think it was just because I wanted to have bang Harry Styles so badly… not completely over that part yet but my music taste is so much different now. Speaking of one direction, 

My very first boyfriend brought me the one direction CD (omfg I know but it was one of the greatest days) and we sat on my bed with my CD player and listened to the whole thing through, from start to finish… then we went to sleep and he slept on his mattress on the ground in my room HAHAHAHA with the door open too because mum did not play around. 
Anyways back to it. 

“Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran (wow I spot a trend) is an oldy but goodie. Makes me cry a little though and think of the days when me mum and ash bash lived in our tiny 3 bedroom house, I’d share a bed with mum every single night and she would snuggle right up next to me… we had the most beautiful life together…we fought, we loved and we were best friends. I’d truly do anything to have one of more those days with that lady.
Mums favourite song was “Pour Some Sugar On Me” and I don’t actually know who sings it but I only just recently realised that they are not talking about fucking sugar in that song. Gross. My mum had sex. More than twice. What the fuck. 
“Stay With Me” by Sam Smith is legendary. I actually fucking LOVE all of his music. He’s the one and only concert I’ve ever been to. I flew to Auckland, my broke little ass, stayed in a tiny, smelly hostel (they had day rooms, you know what that fucking means) with my friend Kersti. And we went to see Sam in the flesh. Truly one of the best memories of my life. The voice of an actual angel. Stay With Me… the song I cried to when I broke up with my first boyfriend (the one who brought me the one direction CD hahahah) my first (well second, dad broke my heart first) broken heart… the first (and not the last) time the guy I madly loved, loved someone else. So fucking happy though because imagine if I had only slept with one fucking person my whole life… a world I DO NOT want to live in. 
I love music and I love that no matter where you are in this world,

you can chuck on the song you use to listen to growing up and connect to it again but on so many different levels. 
Life’s a pretty magical thing,

Made up of little things that turn into one big thing. 
X

BROKEN ANKLETS, BOYS AND BEE BRILLIANCE. 🐝

Holy shit I thought I was shit at commitment but this blog thing is on a whole other level. Missed me? Well I’ve got a second to actually sit down and write something, for once. So here we gooooooooooooooo.

6 weeks left until I fly out to London. Holy fuck. What the hell am I doing? This is going to sound so gay and stupid but I’ve been watching so many YouTube videos about “Contiki Must Haves” or “Do’s & Dont’s of Europe”. What a loser right? I just like to be fully prepared because if I can handle the worst then I can handle the rest. I’m absolutely shitting my pants hey & I’ve truly not saved my money as well as I should have been saving it. I’ve decided I’ll probably get stuck in some shitty little part of the globe with absolutely nothing but my house on wheels & my cringey quotes. Hope the sunsets pretty because that’s all my broke ass will be affording.

It’s been school holidays for the past two weeks and my nuggets have been tiring me outtttt.

 We had a few extra kids stay with us too so yesterday I decided to be the cool nanny and take them to the skate park.

*it was in that moment that britney knew she had fucked up*.

If I can give you one little piece of advice in life, that you’ll hold onto forever and always consider if you are ever in my position.

DON’T

(and I repeat, please fucking don’t.)

GO TO SKATEPARK IN SCHOOL HOLIDAYS.

Jesus Christ it was like a battle zone. I had my two little guys, a girl & a 4 year old boy. What’s fun about a 4 year old? Nothing. Because you have to constantly watch them and make sure they don’t die. No fun. It was just a stressful situation and I didn’t want a bar of it. No thank youuuu.

My anklet broke this week too. Along with my heart 😫 I know to some it seems stupid to be so sad over something as small as that but holy fuck that had so much meaning. Not going to lie but, kinda glad it did finally break because it was getting so gross & i’m certain that’s why I haven’t been getting many guys. Right?

Speaking of guys. I hate myself.

Long story but this is just an example of the fuckwit i am.

I went out last week, “just” to the AFL & to watch the mighty men in black. AFL sucks ass and to get through it I was chugging back wine. Made up a drinking game actually – drink every time you don’t understand what’s going on in a game of AFL… I was pretty blind before half time honestly.

Had a few more bevs watching my boys & then we decided, let’s fucking get a bottle of wine on the way into the city before we go out. So we did. Then, we got into the city & wanted more. So shanelle went and go TWO more fucking bottles, we found and alley way and skulked those bad boys back. Now this is where my memory goes a bit funny – not sure why because I’m a responsible drinker. 🙄😩 (sorry parents) but I remember meeting these guys that walked through the alley way, one had a tattoo of his dog & he was telling me his life story. Tried to get me to do lines of coke with him and his brother but I kindly refused and went on my merry way. Brits next plan of attack was to get into scary carny. Nope. Didn’t. The bouncer let all my friends in but not little bees. Nope. Not even when I asked nicely and said please. I even went away for an hour, came back and still nope. Too drunk apparently but I don’t believe that at all.

😂😂😂😂😫

Overall,

I’ve decided I get way too drunk & make stupid decisions. Like calling people I shouldn’t call. Multiple times. Over and over. Like can someone please just take my phone away because holy fuck me dead I am the worst. Basically long story short I got way too drunk and thought that would be the perfect time to rekindle old flames. Not to sure why that plan didn’t work but boy did I give it a good shot. Legit over 20 times. Sorry 🤷

Anyways, boys.

I don’t know what I hate more, Aussies or boys. Or Aussie boys. All 3 piss me right off. I don’t understand them hey. One minute it’s all on, then the next, nope see ya later. Catch ya never. So there you are- or in my case, there I am. Onto the next and as soon as it’s smooth sailing & things are looking up… Boom. They text. Or call. Or both. Fuck my life.

Side note,

If I have another solid piece of advice for anyone who’s actually reading this,

Please do not get it on with anyone that goes to your gym. I met this guy, known his face for ages because I’ve always seen him around the gym but finally got talking and whatever, and honestly I wish I’d never even sparked up a conversation because the gym use to be my little safe zone – no one knew me. It was just me in my own little world. But noooope,

Not now.

Now, I get followed around like a lost puppy and I’m not happy about it. I didn’t want any of this extra stuff ya know. Uuughhhhhh good one Brits you legend.

I’ve met legit 4 soul mates in the last 2 weeks and probably like 14 in the last 9 months. I’m such a dick hey. Falling in love too fast, too quick, too easy. I know probably all of them is more of a lust than a love, right. But it’s pretty fucking cool to meet so many different people and connect with every single one, differently. My Aunty called me the other day and gave me the 20 questions on if I’m seeing anyone. Brits reply?

Nah, i’m just seeing everyone. 😂

Why have just one? That’s no fun.

Works been work. Same old.

Still loving cold weatbixs. Found a little lump in my boob and not gonna lie I’m slightly shitting myself so off the the docs I shall go.

I’ve google it (of course she has, they say) and I’ve got at least 48 hours to live. Great news. Good stuff. 🤔😴

Next week marks 10 months since I jumped & my heart is so content with where I am right now. I’ll never actually be able to comprehend that I got myself where I am today, all on my very own. I miss my family so much but it’s gotten easier with time. I know I’d much prefer being a little homesick from time to time than living back in the place that made me want to not be around anymore. There’s so much more out there & it’s not until you get out from under your rock and actually experience life.

Speaking of, a few people from back home have messaged me lately and they’re doing what I’m doing. Jumping on a plane & becoming a nanny for while. I love it. I love that. I love it because I went against the small town grain and everyone thought the little sooky Brits wouldn’t last – now they’re taking a leaf out of my book and coping the FreeBee way.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeutiful.

I don’t have everything all sorted, I have no job lined up after Europe. I’m completely winging every single thing in my life. I actually don’t even know where I’ll live once I come back, if I’ll go back to New Zealand, stay in Sydney or go somewhere else around Aussie. Who knows? But freedom is what you do, with what’s been done to you… and I’m going to fly so high I’ll be untouchable.

 

X

MONEY WORRIES, PILL PROBS & THE GREAT EUROPE ADVENTURE… THE ADVENTURE NEVER STOPS.

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Shit it has been a hot minute since I’ve posted anything but honestly I feel like the last few posts have started with the exact same sentence. I’ve been so crazy busy trying to balance work life, gym life, stressing over money, making time for friends and making time for myself too. I feel like I don’t have much going on but at the same time I hardly have a second to catch my breath. 9 weeks left until I leave for Europe. Thats 9 weeks left of pay. 9 weeks left in my own bed. 9 weeks of living out of an actual house and 9 weeks left of guaranteed, 3 meals a day. 9 weeks isn’t that long in the scope of things and I’m honestly shitting myself. I’m so excited to be somewhere new and meet so many new people but I’ve finally found my stride here. I could do my job with my eyes closed and I’ve become use to my environment… my people. my places. I’m worried about money – the usual. I’m worried that theres going to be a fucking terrorist attack while I’m over there. I’m scared that I’ll never ever see Hawera and my family again. Being in Aus I’m really only a hop, skip and a jump away from home. 3 hours and I’m back in sheep shagging territory. But Europe is miles and miles out of my comfort zone. I was so ballsey booking this shit and now that I’ve had so much time to think about what I’m actually about to throw myself into is fucking with me. Booking my flight to Syd, I had only days until my fly out date. It all happened out of nowhere so I didn’t really have time to talk myself out of it… It wasn’t until I was actually on the plane that I started to freak but I thought to myself “Well its a little too late to back out now, Brits.” and I just got on with it. Europe will be good for me. If it wasn’t meant to go like this, then I’m sure the universe would have stopped me one way or another. What is meant to be, will always find a way. I think I’ll alway be a worry wart until the day I die, not necessarily a bad thing – just a tricky one to balance.

Anyways better update you stalkers on what I’ve been up to.

Right now I’m sitting in a cafe in Westfield and if you’re reading this then the wifi didn’t fail me and somehow this blog is posted. I ordered a coffee & this gross breakfast thing with eggs, avo and halloumi. I basically just got it for the halloumi because I fucking love this shit but I 100% regret my decision. Gross.

At the same time that I’m hating my food, I’m working on my University application for Auckland. I’ve been offered a place for next year doing a Bachelor of Primary School Teaching and thought i might as well keep my options open. I have no idea what Europe has in store for me but if all else fails, I can settle down for 3 years and make something of myself. But I have to somehow attend an interview at the Auckland campus sometime soon to secure my spot for next year, which is going to be rather difficult half way around the world. Good one Brits.

I’ve been drinking so much water lately and I was so worried about drowning myself that i actually googled if you could die from drinking too much water – and you can. Wow. What a way to put my mind at ease hey! The gym has been my second home since I came back from NZ and its a really good release for me. Instead of crying and being a sook, I just got and kick the shit out of a punching bag. It’s pretty violent but better than having salty tears. With so much gyming, I’ve actually been sleeping so much better which makes my days even better. I feel like the more energy I use up during the day, the better sleep I have and the more well rested I am. Pretty fucked but I’m actually loving it.

I went to Melbourne for the second time a few weeks ago and we drove instead of flying there. I drove basically the whole way there and back which was actually so much fun. The longest drive by far I’ve ever done in my life! 10 hours there and 10 hours home again. But to be fair I didn’t really have to do much, just drove straight for 800km and set it to auto drive. Simple. I found some cool little beach shacks somewhere in Melbs so I made renee take photos of me in front of them. I love it.

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We saw the socceroos vs brazil game but I was solidly just cheering “Go New Zealand!” A few dumbasses had the audacity to say “the kiwis aren’t playing” and obviously I’m not stupid but I was making a point that I wasn’t supporting anything or anyone else except my sheep shaggers. All Black Everything. ALWAYS, my friends.

Speaking of my beautiful all blacks, they’re playing in sydney just before I scoot off to Europe. And I’ll be attending the game with all the merch I can possibly find and fit on my body plus my face painted black and white. I love being a kiwi.

My new favourite food is weatbix but they have to be crunched up & cold. The way i had them when I was just a wee bee. I love spinach so much too like its almost unhealthy how much spinach I’ve been eating. While I’m on health topics, this is probably a bit TMI but fuck it – anyways I changed birth control pills when I went back home, from AVA 20 to AVA 30. Simply because I had been on AVA 20 too long and my body wasn’t really working well with it anymore, breakthrough bleeding and all that fun stuff. Soooo I changed. I’ve felt crap ever since I came back to Aus. Just thought it was homesickness, but got over that fast. Then thought I was just tired, slept heaps but still felt shit. Then thought I was dehydrated, so I practically drowned myself with water which didn’t solve my problems. Then I went to trusty google and looked up symptoms of AVA 30 and I have basically fucking all of them! OF COURSE. Now that I’m ages away from my doctor, I can’t simply change to another pill because that would just be way too simple and too easy, and we don’t do that in Britneys world. So I’ve self diagnosed myself, thanks to google and I’m taking myself off it for a few weeks to see if that makes a difference or if we have bigger issues. To be fair, I have been on the pill for years & years and I probably do need a break before I completely kill all my little baby eggs and I end up not being able to have kids one day.. It’s all about options. Poppa has always told me not to burn my bridges so I’m taking this situation like a bridge. I’m practically a doctor anyways right? But basically the point of this ‘too much information’ topic is to to remind you all to listen to your bodies. Because mine is hating me right now and I can’t carry on doing this if it isn’t working, ya know? A little detox before Europe will probably do me good. Mentally and physically.

I found this old photo of me and ash the other day. The pink hair and brace face days. This photo was taken a few months after mum died. Its amazing how much can be hidden behind a smile. I was so broken here. I’m still so broken now but back then was a whole different story. Its amazing how quick time seems to go too. Where have the years gone?

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Anywayyyys I think thats all the updates I have.. jus the same old, same old for the time being. High on life & planning my next runaway.

Freeeeeebeeees. x

STILL ALIVE & KICKIN’ 🐝

I’ve been back in kangaroo land for almost 2 weeks now. The tears have stopped and I pulled myself together. Took a bit honestly. I think just the initial shock of realising what you’ve done all over again after being back with your people again, is pretty full on. Like this whole thing is pretty full on as it is. I was second guessing myself so hard when I first got back and I just wanted everyone to tell me I had done the right thing in coming back but honestly & truly, I’m the only person who needed to tell me I’m doing and have done the right thing.
And I have. 

I did.

I do.
A big fat fucking, fuck yes to myself for doing this all over again. High fives and a pat on the back. It takes guts and I honestly urge anyone to do it. Runaway. Move somewhere where you know absolutely no one. It makes you grow up so much but you also realise there’s so much more out there than just the little place you call home. Hawera is beautiful for all it’s taught me and it’ll always be my foundation & home but there’s so much more out in this world. It’s crazy to think that Sydney is just the start of all the places I’ll call home. It’s cool though, thinking about a world tour of nothing but FreeBee. 
Kylie Jenner said 2016 was the year of just realising stuff but honestly I’m starting to realise a lot more this year than last. Ahahaha nah but honestly & seriously I’m beginning to recognise that real happiness isn’t something large and looming on the horizon ahead but something small, numerous and already here. The smile of someone you love. A decent breakfast. The warm sunset. Gin & lift. The smell of rain. Your little everyday joys all lined up in a row…
I fucking love simple things. I’ve always liked getting up for the sunrise because theres never usually anyone around to remind me who I’m supposed to be, so it’s easier to remember who I am. And there’s no better feeling than just, being. 
I’m all about being.

True & honest. 

Happy and free.
Today’s Mothers Day and my heart fucking hurts. I’m a broken record, I know. I honestly feel like that all my life revolves around is being heart broken because I lost the one person I never thought I’d have to be without. It’s fucking bullshit. Most days I just get on with it and carry on. Some days I’m a mess and just cry. Others, I’m angry. But most days I look like everything is A-okay. Hardly ever is but I sell it pretty well. Which is fucking terrible because it’s not until you’re alone, you truly realise how fucked up you feel. And if I had just been honestly from the beginning and said I’m hurting, I wouldn’t be silently suffering. 
Idiot. 
Losing people in life sucks balls in itself. Like death is fucking shit but an equally shit feeling is losing someone that’s still breathing and knowing they’re carrying on their life, without you. 
Missing your company, your laugh, your smiles, snuggles, music taste. Miss our sunsets and sunrises because they aren’t really the same watching them alone since we started chasing them together. Missing you. It was a little piece of forever… our little piece of forever. And as much as it was something but also nothing at the same time, I’m just glad I had that. Whatever it was. It was something. & Because of you, I’m certain you can be homesick from people too.
My heart is hurting all over the show for so many reasons. But I’ll continue on. Have to. Picking up my little broken heart strings and carry on because I’ve got a feeling that this is just one of those dumb lessons.

They’re good in the long run but for now, they suck.
Anyways thought I’d just chuck up a little update just to tell ya I’m still alive & kicking. If you wanted to see my daily shit more regularly, I usually update snapchat religiously so jump on there. Instagram is a go to for me aswell. 🙌🏼👏🏼✌🏼
Life’s going, even if you aren’t having the greatest day, you are still having a day. And life will go, regardless. At least jump on, smile and enjoy the ride. X

#FreeBee

ROUND TWO: SYD AND FREEBEE

Well I just blinked and somehow I’m already finished in New Zealand. It was fucking nippy back home, I must say. I think my nipples might be chaffed from being so cold and stiff & rubbing on my shirt. 

Anyways, I had a reading while I was back home. I like readings. I never believed in them before mum passed away but I think they help me heal. But in saying that, I know some mediums are bullshit…It’s easy to fake stories and things because people who are grieving will believe anything as long as its what they want to hear. But I’ve been to a few good ones over the years. They’ve all said a few really significant things that no one really knew. One chick told me mum had her boots on… to which I laughed because that was a joke between me and ash and mum. We hated those boots, hid them from her once actually up the top of my cupboard. Mum was pissed but me and ash thought it was hilarious. Me and ash buried mums hideous black boots with her in her coffin and no one really knew that except the immediate family. Blew me away. A few other things have been said that make me honestly shit myself because it’s unbelievable the stuff that is said and sometimes I haven’t even said out loud. 

My reading at home was good. I have so much travel in my future. Apparently I’m going to work as some kind of rep for a travel company and work with all these cool as fuck people. Some dark haired, delicious chap is going to come into my life in Europe and we’re going to travel a little together, which I’m truly not complaining about. 

But she said to me “be the blogger you say you are” and when she said that, i honestly I knew it was coming. She said I am the person I say I am, but lately I haven’t been and that’s so fucking true. 

I think I got caught up in what everyone else was doing and what I was doing with everyone else instead of focusing on me. Last year I fell in love with taking care of myself – wasn’t interested in seeing anyone really after I left NZ and moved to Aus because I had just jumped out of a 2 year relationship and I was in a new place where I didn’t really know anyone so it was just me getting to know myself. Which was sick. But this year I’ve gotten to know people and start hanging out with them, ya know whatever and I feel like I’ve started to rely on them to be happy and feel the way I was feeling last year. It’s so confusing to even put into words but I haven’t been looking after myself very well, working fucked up hours and hardly sleeping. Running on empty and spending ever spare moment with someone. I’ve been so exhausted but having human contact, relationships and friendships became all I focused on. Just having someone text you back or want to see you all the time. It’s fucked. And so exhausting.

Here I was, preaching about not needing someone to make you happy when i was doing the complete opposite. I was sitting by my phone all hours of the day waiting to be wanted. But as I’ve said before, if you put your happiness in someone else’s hands they’ll just drop it every time. And they did. 

I love the people I’ve met and the ones I’ve become close with. I have truly met some beautiful souls and as much as I want to be something more with them, who knows what will happen. They could easily just be a lesson. And some lessons suck. 

I can’t wait to be loved and adored and held and chased. I can’t wait to feel the love I give so freely. But I guess you’ve gotta learn the hard way that not everyone is going to fit into your puzzle, as much as you want them to… some things just aren’t meant to be. 

My olds took me to New Plymouth airport yesterday and saying goodbye to them was probably the hardest. I think when you’re growing up, you don’t really realise that the ones you love are getting older too and being in another country, you miss out on a lot. It’s so hard being away especially from my two olds and ash. 

Here are some photos from my little sneak home. 

My little baby mace playing rugby.

A snuggle with Cheryl.

A sunset from home.

My mountain. 

My family.

A few cheeky handstands…

The sick as fuck cake we made Ella for her 8th birthday… 

Me being a typical kiwi. 

Me and my main man.

I’m back in Sydney now. I landed last night and I’m feeling fucking miserable. I know this feeling won’t last long, well I’m hoping anyways . This times different because I have a bedroom set up, a familiar bed, my Aussie family and my friends and I know how to do my job well but it’s still fucking rough, a sickening feeling… not knowing if you’re doing the right thing, just hoping you are. Going home and being with everyone again was beautiful but as hard as it is to go, I know I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, back in Sydney. It just sucks like seeing everyone and then going but I’m so much more better off here than Hawera. Hard to put into words because the feeling is so strange… just having an urge to get out and run. 

I have always had a really strong intuition and I’m drawn to people who think the same way as me. I get strong gut feelings but I haven’t really learnt to follow them until lately. I’ve got the strongest gut feeling there’s so much out there for me to find…I’m just following my nose and trying to find it. Sydney was a complete gamble. I was the shy little shut the fuck up chick who never stepped out and tried anything new because all I did was worry, but that’s not who I am anymore. I still get scared about the usual stuff like getting pregnant or missing flights but I’m doing alright because neither of those have happened so far. 

(Ahahahahahaha I would die and poppa would fucking flip) 

Nah but I’ve grown and changed and matured so much but at the same time I’ve also lightened up, found my inner kid and had a lot more fun than I have ever before. I love gin now, I’ve swam with Sharks, parasailed and I want to jump off everything I find. Might even jump out of a plane before I leave Sydney. I’ve gotten some cool tattoos that mean so much and although people don’t quite understand them all, I am still so in love with them.

In saying that, a long time ago I learnt not to explain every detail of everything to people,

It misleads them into believing they’re entitled to know everything you do. I hate complicating things but I think we as humans do it unintentionally. But its really simple. Just do your best and what will be, will be.

Nothing more,

Nothing less.

Sydneys my playground for the next 3ish months and at the end of August I’m flying out to London from Sydney and starting my two Europe contikis.

Who knows what the fuck I’ll do next but the way I see it is, 

life’s a daring adventure or nothing at all.

You reading this, who ever you are:

Thanks for loving me, following me, believing in me and being with me on this little adventure we call life. I’ve loved my time at home and I’m guttered to leave but I can’t help how I’m feeling. There’s a few people I wish I could pack in my bag and bring along with me but I guess if you love something set it free… so thank you for letting me go & roam, soar, fly so high and far. I know I’ll always have my people who get me and my jumbled mind. Thank you for backing my plans and allowing me to just go. It’s so hard to leave you behind but there’s so much out there’s it blows my little kiwi mind.

I don’t know what the future holds for me, what I’ll be or do. Who knows if I’ll even make something of myself or just end up broke, living on Ashleigh and Scotts couch…but all I really want to do in this life above all, is to make my family and myself proud. 

I don’t know much, wasn’t the smartest kid in school. I fuckin hated biology and wagged pretty much every single class in my final year. Started an internal the day before it was due – it was a 3 day experiment on those slater bug things. I sweet talked the teacher and managed to get the paper done in an afternoon and I actually got a merit for it. ahahahahahahahahaha still makes me laugh because a few other people in my class who actually tried hard on it for weeks didn’t pass and little old fuck around, tinny ass me, did. 

People never expected much from me I don’t think because I never really said how I felt, just kept quiet and got on with it. Always got in trouble for being too much of a smart ass and way too cheeky…my time management skills weren’t as good as they should have been, I got by just doing what I needed to and I’ve always just been average. 

I don’t know a hell of a lot,

But. 

All I know for sure is…

Somewhere, something is waiting to be found, known, explored & loved.

And I’m on my way to find it.

I don’t know where I’m going from here but I promise it won’t be boring.

🌟💫✨⚡️🎶🏃🏼‍♀️💋 

#FreeBee

🐝

 

🏡😌✈️

“Age is no crime.But the shame of a deliberately wasted life, among so many deliberately wasted lives, 

Is.”
Quotes make me stop and think so much. I almost hate how different my perspective is from most of the people my age. I kinda hate how much I appreciate simple things because I feel like I’m just preaching all the damn time. I never want to waste a second and I always want people to know how much they mean to me – but always being that person for everyone else is so exhausting. I bring it on myself though but I guess it’s so simple to forget how quick opportunities go by & just wanting everyone to grip them with both hands while they’re around is so frustrating.
It’s basically like we’re all listening to the same song but we all hear the lyrics & beat so differently. That’s how I am with music anyways and quotes too I guess. I probably read into things a little bit more than I should but I guess that’s not necessarily a bad thing, either. The tone of voice or the way people write back fucks with me. I complicate a lot of things in my head, probably way more than it ever should be to begin with. I’m more of and have always been a sit down, shut up type person and that’s probably why I stirr so much up, on my own, in my own head.
I don’t know too much, but I do know that I say I don’t know too often when I know exactly what I say I don’t. It’s pretty simple, say how you feel and let it ruin you or don’t & let that fuck you up even more. 
I write a whole lot better than I can actually say stuff out loud. And I purely just made this whole blog thing because it’s a release for me. I guess I’m both happy & sad all and once, 

And I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.
If you follow me on anything, you’d probably see how obsessed with reading & books I’ve been lately. I’ve always enjoyed reading but didn’t really allow myself the time to spend doing it. Mum always made us read as kids, getting us a library card really young and always making time to take us get out our lame books… the little thing she did for us honestly instilled so much in me. I’m a lot more like her than and I realise and I love it. 
I joined a library down here because I felt like I was missing something – starring at a screen fucks with me because I’m constantly wanting to check what everyone else is up to. The latest Instagram or snapchat. Like as good as this whole social media shit is to keep in contact and what not, it can really take control of you. Like I love finding cool spots to capture or quotes that I relate so much to, so I share it but I think not everything needs to be shared & posted about and that’s something I find hard to get a hold of sometimes..most of my favourite moments aren’t even captured, they don’t make it online because some things I just want to keep a little to myself. And I think that’s fuckin beautiful. 
I was always scared of the dark growing up but, over time I’ve learnt that beautiful things happen in the dark. When the sun goes to sleep & when the stars give light kisses when the moon is a spotlight. Life stays beautiful even when you’re covered in darkness.
I’m excited to head home for a bit. I like airplanes. I like anywhere that isn’t a proper place. I like in betweens. I like where my head is at right now. I like the britney, out of hawera & i’m honestly a little nervous to go back home because I guess people are use to just Hawera britney. Little country girl who would always just shut the fuck up and get on with it.. the little doormat. 

Nervous but excited for them to see me, to meet me all over again. I feel good so fuckin goood knowing I’m not stuck though. I have a life out of hawera – something out of my little pond. An ocean. I have stuff and people here to come back to which is so good because my homesickness shouldn’t be too hard to deal with compared to when I first moved over the ditch.
I’ve met some beautiful souls across my little travels and I was a little funny about getting close to people because I’ve always been so use to people leaving but I’m starting to accept that even if you aren’t here to stay, I’m just glad the universe allowed you to stop by. 

I think everyone I meet adds a little bit more to me and my story. A glimpse, a conversation or a meaningful friendship all bring something to me. That’s how I try to see it anyways… not everything has to be something long lasting, even if you want them to be. Some people come into your life just to teach you how to let go. Others teach you what it’s like to love and be loved and some people are brought to you just to show you that some people are just fucking assholes.

All are good lessons & we’ll learn them repeatedly throughout this life. 
Its scary though, thinking about how wrong you can be about people. To see one tiny part of them,

And confuse it for the whole.
I think about you every single day & wonder if you’re wondering about me too. It’s a fucked up situation that we’re in and I wish it was different. Wish you were here. Wish I didn’t have to even wish you cared. Having one parent who can’t physically be here but would do anything to be here with me & then having the other parent, who chooses not to be here but could easily jump on a plane to be here is so fucking painful. I’ll never understand. Probably don’t even want to understand. A tattoo on an arm doesn’t and won’t make you a parent – even if it looks like you are to other people. Who cares what you pretend to look like. If you aren’t it, It doesn’t count. 

I don’t fucking get it…in the end, I guess you just want someone who will back you without even thinking twice.

Ugh. Life. So stupidly complicated but so simple. 

7 sleeps till I’m drowning in nothing but family & kiwiness. I’m so excited to sneak home but I’m even more excited to take my lady some flowers & share a gin next to her. Almost 7 months since I’ve been able to sit beside her and that’s probably the thing I’ve missed most in this chapter.

Hooooomeeeeee times almost here. Can’t wait to drive my little car around & see my big snowy rock. I’m so fucking ready to just breath at home & celebrate my lady, the main reason why I’m here today. 

See ya when I’m looking at ya,
Kiwis. 😏😉👋🏼

🐝

X