Dear Anxiety,

Remember the first day we met? I do. I remember it so vividly that it could have been yesterday. You crept into my life one day, like some kind of poisonous gas. I couldn't see you, hear you, nothing. I had no idea you were about to take hold and turn my whole world upside down.

All I wanted to do was go to my lecture. That was all. Something I'd done a million and one times before and I had no clue that today would be any different.

You took hold quickly, and your timing was impeccable. That certainly never changed. You completely took over my body and my mind. Suffocated me. Controlled me. Built up a barrier in my mind that I just couldn't get over. You sent awful thoughts racing through my brain and sent my heart racing so fast that I thought it was going to explode right out of my chest.

My first panic attack. The first of so, so many. You, Anxiety, completely took over my life. You and your buddy, Depression. Together, you warped my brain and changed me into someone that I didn't recognised. I used to be outgoing and sociable, but you changed all that. Day in, day out, I spent living in fear, with your nasty little voice in my head. Whispering. Telling me that something awful was going to happen if I even stepped outside my front door. That I wasn't worthy. That I didn't deserve my friends, my place at uni, nothing. And I listened. I listened to every disgusting word you said and I internalised it. It was engrained in my head. And that almost destroyed me. Almost.

It took a long time, but eventually with a lot of help, I began to fight back. I wasn't going to let you jeopardise everything that I'd worked so hard for. You weren't going to control my life anymore. I didn't want to believe the lies you told me. I was done with having a meltdown every time I went on a night out, or had to go into work. And day by day, I started to get a little bit stronger.

You weren't giving up that easily though, were you Anxiety? You're persistent, I'll give you that. Even now, you won't leave me alone. You keep coming back, filling my brain with irrational thoughts, making me scared of everything. You keep threatening everything.

But you know what Anxiety, I'll never let you destroy me again. No way. I am stronger than you. I am loved. I am worthy. And you are not going to control me.


Sian

It's been six months since I, suddenly and without much warning, found myself single. And it's the longest period of time that I've been single for since I was 17.

Once I'd got over the initial shock and heartbreak of my relationship ending, I soon started to panic. Oh shit, I have to be single. I've never really done that as an adult before. How will I cope? Being out in that world on your own, without the comfort and security of a boyfriend is, to put it bluntly, terrifying.

But I didn't really have a choice. Another relationship just wasn't an option for me. I needed time to heal and restore my faith in the male population. I just had to try to muddle through.

It's been bloody hard at times. Things like sorting myself out after having a panic attack, or not having someone there to give me a cuddle or listen to me rant after a bad day. Seeing my friends going on holiday or celebrate anniversaries with their other halves has been difficult, because I've felt like I've been missing out by not having that.

But at the same time, being single has been so freeing. For the first time in a long time, I've been able to be a little bit selfish. I've made decisions about my future that are based on what is best for me, without having to consider someone else. I'm now about to move in with one of my best friends, starting a new adventure in a new city, and that wouldn't have been able to happen if I was still in a relationship.

I've learned a hell of a lot more about self-worth in recent months too. For a long time, I've always needed to be loved by someone, and I think now that was a way of self-validation, and I always felt like my sense of worth had to come from a boyfriend. But now, I've learned that self-worth can only come from me (and yes that sounds obvious but sometimes you don't necessarily know the obvious until it really slaps you in the face) and I like to think that my self-confidence is starting to grow, bit by bit.

I have so much more time for my friends, which is amazing. I can see them more often, and spend as much time with them as I want without feeling guilty that I might be prioritising them over my partner and how that might make him feel.

The last six months have been difficult at times, and being single has been a tough adjustment to make. To me, having two serious relationships fail before I'd even turned 22 meant that I was a failure, that something was intrinsically wrong with me and I was unlovable. It's taken me a long time to realise that isn't true and I just haven't met the right person yet.

And that's okay.

Even now, being single can be difficult. I'm still learning how to be single, really. I was recently on a night out and on being told by a guy that I'm hot, I laughed because I thought he was joking! I clearly haven't learned how to flirt. Hopefully when I do eventually meet someone, he'll love me despite that...

I still have a little way to go before I can get into another relationship. I need to rebuild some of my self-confidence and learn how to trust people again.

But it just goes to show that you're always stronger than you think you are in what you think will be a nightmare situation. And, as much as it surprises me to say it, I'm okay. Being single is okay. I'm actually kind of enjoying it.

I'd love to hear your experiences! Feel free to pop a comment below.

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo

This time four years ago, I was making plans to move away from home and have a fresh start at university. If you'd asked me back then if I ever thought I'd move back home, I'd have laughed at you and told you not to be ridiculous.

I'm writing this post from my mum's sofa, having moved back in just over four weeks ago.

In a lot of ways, it feels very strange to have come full circle. Like you were never away, but all of a sudden you're older and living on your own seems like a whole other lifetime ago. I'm back in a small rural town, where everyone knows everyone, and I can't even go to work without seeing someone from my childhood. Which is a massive culture shock having just come from a city where I could be relatively anonymous and reinvent myself. It's like the shadow of home me is following me around.

Any friends that I had before I left for uni have moved away and got on with their own lives. So it's become pretty lonely for me, because if I have a day off and no plans, my nearest friends are an hour away. All of my spare time is spent with my family, which I have loved but sometimes you just need a break to spend time with your friends!

Then there's the actual living at home. And yes, while it is lovely to have a proper meal cooked for you every night and your clothes seem to magically appear washed and ironed, there are some days where the novelty is well and truly worn off. I love my family to pieces, but going from having a two bedroomed house all to yourself to not even having a room to call your own is a pretty big adjustment to make. In fact, the only me-time I get is when I'm in the bath. If I can get in the bathroom when I want to.

I've found it's the little things that have got to me. Things like the way my brother bangs down the stairs first thing in the morning when I'm trying to have a lie in, or always having to be aware of letting Mum know that I won't be at home for tea when my plans for the day change. Just tiny little things that make me feel like the freedom that comes with living independently is gone.

This post probably just sounds like a great big rant, but that wasn't my intention. My point simply is that after four years of being completely independent and doing your own thing, moving back home can be a really difficult transition to make.

It's not all bad, though. It's been so lovely to spend some quality time with my family, to go back to my home church and forget about being domesticated for a while. I'm just looking forward to getting back to being independent again!

Have you been through the same thing? How did you cope?

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo

Dear 15 Year Old Sian,

You think life's tricky now? Trust me, it's about to get a lot more complicated.

Let me give you a few words of advice.

You're going to make one hell of a lot of mistakes. From thinking you can pull of blue eyeliner, to your awful taste in boys. You'll look back one day and shudder and cringe at the poor life decisions you make. But you know what, mistakes are part of growing up. Embrace it. And stay away from the hair crimpers. Seriously...

At this point, you think you have your life mapped out. Meticulously planned, right down to the last detail. Unfortunately, plans often go awry. The career path that you wanted more than anything else in the world might not turn out to be as glamorous as you first thought. And you might not be married with two kids (one of each, obviously) and a big house and a neat little lawn by the time you're thirty. Don't be afraid to go back to the drawing board. Don't beat yourself up when you come full circle and move back home after university. Don't freak out when your plan falls apart. Take a step back and let life happen. It'll all come together in the end. I hope.

Maybe think about learning how to cook? Properly cook. Believe it or not, living off toast and super noodles just isn't a thing.

Pray more. Pray every day. At least once. You think that you know better, and there'll be times where you think that God is ignoring you, or has given up on you, but He hasn't. Please, whatever you do, don't let your faith slip away. There'll come a time where it feels like it's all you have.

Hide anything you don't want your sister to get her grubby little mitts on. She gets worse at stealing your stuff as she gets older. And I know your brother seems like the spawn of Satan right now, but he actually turns out to be the only guy you can depend on. Love him, even when he's being a shit.

Boys are going to hurt you. More than once. And when that happens, it's going to be excruciatingly painful. We both know how deeply you feel, how you wear your heart on your sleeve and how willing you are to fall in love. And that's okay, but brace yourself for heartbreak. You may feel like the heartbreak will never end, but take it from me, it will. It'll take your time, but one day you'll find yourself happy again without even noticing it.

In the meantime, don't focus so much on what boys think of you. Focus on your friends. Focus on your family. Focus on working hard at school and achieving your dreams. You don't need a boy to complete you. Especially not the ones you pick. You really do have awful taste.

Oh, and listen to Mum more. Annoyingly, she's always right.

Enjoy being young, because the older you get, the messier life becomes. Every so often, it'll feel like you're going through hell and back, but you'll be okay. I promise.

Love,

22 Year Old Sian

I've never been one of those people who was good at being on their own. The thought of evening by myself was difficult, anything more than that almost impossible.

Four months ago, I began living on my own. And despite that idea being absolutely hellish to me at the time, I'm actually okay. Happy, almost.

Don't get me wrong, it took a lot of adjustment. I spent the first few weeks bawling my eyes out at the thought of spending a full day by myself. If I didn't have plans with anyone for a day off, I'd go into a bit of a frenzy, wondering what on earth I'd do with myself, and how I was going to cope with no one else's company but my own.

What I've slowly come to realise is that actually, my own company isn't all that bad. I've had so much uni work to get done that my days off are quickly filled up, and sometimes I'm actually glad to have a bit of time to myself.

I do talk to myself a lot more, though. A LOT more.

Loneliness is still something that I experience frequently. Sometimes I think that it would be nice to have someone who's just around, to chat to or to watch Netflix with. And I just can't get the hang of cooking for one, I'm forever ending up with a mountain of food and living off bolognese for what feels like a lifetime.

But there's a strange kind of freedom that comes with living on your own. I can stumble in drunk at whatever time of the morning and not have to worry about waking anyone up. I can leave the dishes in the sink until the morning if I can't be bothered to wash up. I never have to fight over the TV remote. I have my own space, a sanctuary, that is no one else's but mine.

I've kind of amazed myself at how resilient I've been in what I thought was a nightmare situation. I guess it just goes to show that you're always stronger than you think you are. I thought I'd never be able to cope living on my own, but actually, I'm alright.

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo

I'm one of those people who likes to plan. Always have been, probably always will be. My diary sticks by my side at all times because otherwise I have no idea what I'm doing or when I'm doing it. I plan dates with friends, I plan when I'm doing uni work down to the hour, I plan outfits a week in advance.

And I've always had a plan for my future. Ever since I was five, I've known that I wanted to write, and although the plan has varied slightly, it's always been there. I will go to university, I will move to a big city, I will write. And so far, it's worked out pretty well for me.

Recently though, as the end of university draws ever-closer, I've found myself in a panic. If anyone read my When I Grow Up post, you might know that journalism has been thrown into question for me. But since then, I've not really had any of idea what I want to do with my life. And with the dreaded "So what's your plan for after uni?" being thrown at me left right and centre, my stress levels around the subject have only increased. Especially since the only constant, decisive factor I had has gone.

It seems that as I've got older, my future has become increasingly uncertain. When I was 18, I knew that I was going to be married at 22, babies at 24 or 25, get a comfortable job at a local newspaper, and that would be that. I now know that would have been completely the wrong path for me, but I'm now 22 and at a completely loose end, and that's something that I've never ever experienced before.

In a way, it's exciting. I can go anywhere or be anything. I have nothing tying me to a person, place or job. But after a lifetime of having your future mapped out, when you all of a sudden find yourself without a plan, it's pretty daunting.

I never would have thought five years ago that I'd be in the position I'm in now, about to graduate, moving back in with my mum in the next few months, and having absolutely no idea what's going to happen next. I thought I had planned so meticulously that it would all just fall into place. But it would seem that it just doesn't work that way.

Life happens. Things change, your interests change, people come into your life that seem to change everything, and they can leave again. Sometimes you just have to scrap your plan and go back to the drawing board. And that's okay.

One thing has remained constant for me, though. Writing. I love to write. It's the only thing that I don't have to plan, I can just take a concept out of thin air and then let the words flow. It's the only thing that I've remained passionate about. What form that will take, who knows.

Yep, I'm a little bit lost right now. I have absolutely no idea what the hell I'm doing, I'm just going to muddle through as best I can and maybe somewhere along the way, I'll work it out. Maybe, for now, being a little bit lost is all right.

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo

Lush events are hailed among bloggers as the best events ever. I've honestly never ever heard a blogger say that they were disappointed by a Lush event. Ever. So when I got the chance to go to the Lush Spring event in Sheffield, there was no way I was going to let it pass me by!

Not only was this my first Lush event, it was my first ever blogger's event. And my first one going by myself. So I was ridiculously nervous for the whole day, but it all melted away like a bath bomb as soon as I got in there!




The lovely staff had set up four little stations for us; where we could make our own bath bombs and bubble bars, play around with the new Spring range, create our own shower gels and get personalised skin consultations. I was gutted that I couldn't get around them all! But I couldn't have made my way to the bath bomb making station fast enough, and I loved making my own Butterball, which I can't wait to use.

We then spent a good half an hour chatting to the lovely Samm about the Mother's Day and Easter ranges, and taking a look at some of the products.



Samm showed us some amazing bath bombs and bubble bars, my personal favourites had to be Golden Egg (because ALL THE GLITTER), which I couldn't resist treating myself to, and the Ladybird bubble bar which was just so cute and smells of pick and mix! We had such a giggle and it was so lovely to get to know some of my fellow Sheffield bloggers.

I was giddy when I was told that there were going to be goodie bags for us at the end of the night, I think I might even have done a little happy squeal! I was expecting maybe a bath bomb and a couple of samples, but the lovely people at Lush really spoilt us! I got the Ladybird bubble bar (insert another happy squeal here), the Honey I Washed the Kids soap, the Over the Rainbow soap, the Humpty Dumpty bath bomb and the BB Seaweed face mask. They're all sitting in my basket in my bathroom and I can't wait to start working my way through them.



Thank you so much Lush Sheffield for having me, I had an amazing time! Hopefully I'll be attending more Lush events in the future!

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo

Left to right: Midsummer Mauve, Cornflower Blue, Brunette Red, Grey Storm,  Cashmere Rose

Midsummer Mauve

I haven't ever been very good at the whole being by myself thing. Up until very recently, I've almost always had someone to completely lean on, someone on hand to call or hug whenever I've had a panic attack or a bad day. And if I'm being completely honest, I've probably relied on those people too much, and I'm pretty sure that reliance is what has caused those relationships to break down.

Well, no more. The walls are well and truly up. For the first time since I was 17, I'm on my own for the foreseeable future and that's something that I'm really not used to. I've always thought of myself as an independent person, but the situation that I've found myself in has shown me that actually, I'm quite the opposite.

I've found it's the little things that are the most difficult. Like finding yourself with no plans for a Sunday afternoon and wondering how you're going to cope with spending a day on your own.

Or being ill, or having a panic attack, and it suddenly dawning on you that there's no one around to look after you or calm you down, except you. Even silly things get to me, like the other day when I slipped in the shower. I whacked my head and twisted my ankle as I went down, and had a little cry just because I realised that there was no one to come running up the stairs when they heard me scream, hold an ice pack to my head or even just give me a hug. Which sounds ridiculous, I know. But it reminded me of how lonely I was.

I'm working on it though. Slowly. I'm heading into what will probably be the busiest four months ever, with a hell of a lot of uni work to do, as well as holding down a part time job and keeping up with blogging. When I've found that I had a day to myself, I've just thrown myself into planning blog posts, or getting the ball rolling on my final project. And it makes me feel so good knowing that I've spent my day being productive, rather than feeling sorry for myself. Although believe it or not, I'm starting to enjoy my own company, spending my free evenings watching TV or reading with a hot chocolate. It can be quite nice to have the time to myself, doing what I fancy doing and not having to take someone else into consideration.

Slowly, I'm becoming more and more independent. When my depression is being a bitch and I'm feeling low, I find a way to cheer myself up, by doing my nails or watching funny YouTube videos, rather than waiting for someone to do it for me. Instead of seeing a day by myself as something awful, I look at it as a chance to either get a tonne of work done, or to have a little bit of me-time.

More than anything, I think I needed to prove to myself that I can and will look after myself. That I don't need to be reliant on anyone else, and I'm taking steps to becoming stronger and happier.

I even cook for myself on a daily basis now. If that isn't independence, I don't know what is.

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo

Wednesdays have recently become date day with my friend Ross. Mostly involving shopping for homeware (because who doesn't love homeware?!) But when the lovely people at Taco Bell sent me out a voucher for a meal for two, I knew it was perfect Wednesday date material!

We visited the Taco Bell on Division Street in Sheffield, a restaurant that I've walked past countless times, but never really thought to go in to. But I'd seen a lot of photos all over my friends' social media of yummy-looking food and raving about how amazing it was, so I was excited to see what they had to offer.

I expected the restaurant to feel a lot like you were sitting in a fast-food place, which screaming children and sticky tables and chips all over the floor. I was actually pleasantly surprised, the atmosphere in Taco Bell was quite relaxed, it was really clean and not so loud and bustling that I felt like I needed to eat as quickly as possible and leave. To quote Ross, "It's like, posher than McDonald's, isn't it?"

The meal for two that we had was amazing value for money. It included nachos, quesadillas, two tacos, two portions of chips and two drinks. All of that for only £9.99, which I thought was a really good price for the amount of food you get.



Most importantly, the food was SO yummy. The quesadillas in particular were to die for! They were a little more spicy than I'd usually like, but I loved them. I ate so much that it sent me into a full on food-coma... But I was very much okay with that.

Overall, both Ross and I loved our first Taco Bell experience, we'll definitely be back!

Have you ever been to Taco Bell before? What did you think?

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo

I've seen the word "heartbreak" thrown around a lot, especially recently. We're heartbroken when a relationship ends, we're heartbroken when a celebrity we admire passes away, we're heartbroken when Tesco has sold out of our favourite flavour of ice-cream. All sad situations, yes. All with different levels of heartbreak.

It hasn't been until really recently that I've finally understood what the word heartbreak really means. The whole experience has been exhausting, painful and completely incomprehensible. And at the minute, the only way I can think of to make sense of the whole thing is to write about it. Whether or not I post it remains to be seen. But maybe by getting it all out in words, I can start to work through it.

(Little disclaimer: I'm not trying to dismiss the way anyone else deals with heartbreak. I know it's a very personal thing and we all react differently. I'm just talking about what it's been like for me in the last couple of weeks.)

Heartbreak isn't sitting in bed screaming and crying and tearing up photographs. I mean, maybe there was screaming and crying for the first few days. But it soon becomes apparent that screaming, crying, or anything else dramatic you may do won't make you feel any better. Nor will it bring back what you've lost.

Heartbreak is like a constant dull ache right in the depths of your chest. This ache is relentless. There's no eradicating it, only numbing it for a brief period of time. Believe me, I've tried everything to eradicate it. I've thrown myself into uni work, I've done more hours at work, I've cleaned the house from top to bottom. Nothing has worked. The pain might stop while you're immersed in your task, or with friends who make you laugh, but as soon as the house is clean, or your friends leave, the ache is there again, no less fierce than before.

Heartbreak is feeling like you're on auto-pilot. You go through the motions, trying to get on with daily life. Everything seems to be going fine, until heartbreak stops you in your tracks and makes you break down. It's pretty good at doing that. And as much as you don't want to give in to it, you want to carry on with your day as normal but feeling like this is so unbearable, you don't know if you can even get through the next hour.

Heartbreak is realising what you took for granted. It's never wanting to see the person who hurt you again, but it's also wanting to see them more than anything else in the world. Just to see them. To memorise every little detail about them, to remember how it felt when you were happy, and to hold on to that until heartbreak loosens its grip on you.

Heartbreak is missing the little things. It's coming back to an empty house and finding that it's so much colder than it used to be. Or getting two mugs out of the cupboard when you're making coffee on a Saturday morning... then remembering that you only need the one. Heartbreak is watching a TV show that you both used to love and all of a sudden not being able to bear it because it just isn't the same. Or not being able to sleep on their side of the bed, just because it's still theirs.

Heartbreak is replaying the same moments over and over again in your head. Spending hours lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what you could have done differently. Going over the happiest times and being willing to give anything to go back to feeling that way again.

Heartbreak is knowing that your life isn't ever going to be the same again, and that there isn't a single thing you can do about it. It's knowing that you'll be okay in the end, but at this point in time, seeing no light at the end of the tunnel. For now, the only thing you can do is give yourself time to hurt and try to move on. Which is exactly what I'm trying to do.

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo

It's become a daily routine. I get out of bed, and go to the full-length mirror that we have in our spare bedroom. Lift up my t-shirt. How flat is my tummy today? Not very. It never is. Shouldn't have agreed to takeaway last night. Stupid girl.

Still got those tree-trunk thighs. And why are my hips so big?!

I can spend a good five or ten minutes stood in front of the mirror, analysing every lump and bump, every stretch mark, every little bit of me, wondering why all the little bits that I despise haven't disappeared overnight. Then I have to choose an outfit for the day that agrees with how fat or skinny I'm feeling that day. The whole process is painstaking.

Recently, I stopped in my tracks as I pulled out another jeans-and-jumper combination. What was I doing? This isn't me. I'm usually a fan of pretty, girly dresses. Now, here I was, so ashamed of my body that I was hiding behind baggy clothes.

The thing is, I've never been a particularly "big" girl. I've been a size 12 since I was around 15 years old, and up until now, I've been very much okay with that. I've never been an unhealthy weight or been at risk. And recently, when I've mentioned to friends or family that I've been feeling rubbish about the way I look, it very quickly gets dismissed. "Oh, don't be silly Sian," they say, "You don't need to lose any weight. You suit your size."

I don't know where it has come from, but it seems as though unless you're classed as "overweight", you should just be happy with your body, and you have no right to express the fact that you are self-conscious, or your confidence is low. Because you look okay through someone else's eyes, you should also look okay through your own.

Let me tell you now. That. Isn't. True.

Whether you're a size six, twelve or twenty-two, you are allowed to have low self-esteem. Whether you're medically seen as overweight, underweight, or somewhere in between, you are allowed to feel low about your body. Your feelings are no less valid. Okay?

I'm in no way saying that this is a positive way of thinking. In an ideal world, we'd all strut around like the demigods and goddesses that we are, confident in the knowledge that we are beautiful and perfectly made. But what I'm personally fed up of is having my thoughts about my body image dismissed because I'm a "normal" size.

The more I thought about it, the more I realised that my low self-esteem has been affecting my whole life. Not only the clothes I wear, but it's been having a serious effect on my relationship with Luke, my social life and just the way that I carry myself. And I can't let this keep holding me back. I just can't.

For me, the way to overcome my poor body image has been to take control, and change my thinking. I've joined Weight Watchers, and lost four pounds in my first week, which has already been a massive confidence-boost. But it goes beyond losing weight. It's about my clothes fitting better, thinking more about the food that I'm eating, becoming fitter and healthier by doing exercise that I love, nourishing my body... and eventually, being happy in my skin again. The confidence will follow. I'm determined to get out of my body image slump and get back to being my old self again.

So, my beautiful readers, my message to you is to own your body. As long as you're healthy and happy, don't let anyone else dismiss your feelings, or tell you what to do with your body. If you're a size 8 and want to join the gym to build some muscle, you do it. If you're a size 14 and want to cut out junk food, well done you! If you're a size 20 and love yourself completely, you go girl!

Love yourself, everyone. Okay?

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo

I love Lush as much as the next blogger. Maybe even more. I'm actually currently on a Lush ban because I'm trying to save for driving lessons and I've been known to spend an obscene amount of money if I let myself wander in.

During my last visit to the store in Sheffield city centre, I got chatting to one of the sales assistants, who asked me "Are you a bath bomb girl or a bubble bar girl?" (It wasn't as creepy as it sounds!) And I honestly didn't know! Cue blog post inspiration! I bought one of each and decided to put them both to the test and see which one came out on top.

The bath bomb that I chose was Yog Nog, which was a yellow bomb with a cinder toffee scent. I LOVE cinder toffee, so I couldn't wait to get this one home to try it. It looks a bit weird when it turns the bath water bright yellow, but smells incredible! Lush actually tweeted me saying that Yog Nog is like "a big warm hug in a bath bomb" and that pretty much hits the nail on the head!



When I spotted the Magic Wand Bubble Bar, I just couldn't resist it! (It's since sadly gone into the sale, sob) It's a little more expensive than a bath bomb, but it's reusable which I really like! It's really sweet-smelling, kind of like candy floss, and as I was running my bath Luke said that he could smell it all the way from downstairs. I was a bit skeptical about whether or not it'd make many bubbles, but I was pleasantly surprised, I was left with plenty of bubbles and it smelled heavenly!




My verdict? I think I'm definitely a bubble bar girl. Don't get me wrong, I love a bath bomb, but there's something about a bubble bath which is just so relaxing, and I love how you can use them more than once. I can't wait to try more bubble bars from Lush's range! (Once I've paid for my first round of driving lessons...)

What about you? Do you prefer bath bombs or bubble bars?

Love,
Sian Kathrine xo