In this ascent, the mountain isn’t made of rock or ice — it’s made of memory.

A journey that began with a talk by Ben Fogle and became an inner pilgrimage spanning years, dreams, synchronicities, and love letters that refused to die.

From a red velvet jewellery box to a bench by the sea engraved with a message, this is the climb of a lifetime — the slow, sacred rise toward reunion, revelation, and the beloved within.
If you came here for mountaineering tips, you’re in the wrong place.

But if you’ve ever felt the thin air of transformation — you’ll recognise the view from this summit.

In this entry, The Nail Tech returns to a lifelong dream —

her grandmother’s house in flames — she traces how that fire became a map for her life. What once felt like destruction revealed itself as devotion, as refinement.

This is a story about learning to sit with the heat of transformation, to listen for what’s being released, and to find the quiet light that never burns out.

In this diary entry, The Nail Tech opens the door — literally — to two Jehovah’s Witnesses and a far older conversation about belief, blood, and the body.

What unfolds isn’t an argument, but an invitation:
to hear beyond doctrine, to listen for the hidden language of Gnosis — the knowing beneath the words.

It’s a story about symbolism, misinterpretation, and the mischievous holiness of being alive in a body. And perhaps, it’s a reminder that heresy might just mean hearing differently.

From the folded notes of childhood to the love letters that never found their way to a postbox, this entry traces a lifetime of ink and longing.

The Nail Tech reflects on the sacred act of writing — how the letters we write, send, or save become vessels for the parts of ourselves we couldn’t yet speak.

And how sometimes, decades later, those unsent words finally find their way home.

This entry is dedicated to the ones who have my heart, Jodie, Hannah and Amy and my lost love, my source, My Ba, may it find it's way to his heart.

In this entry, The Nail Tech traces the art of listening to life itself — through misdirection, through silence, through the maps others draw for us.

A story about making space, collecting signs, and learning that sometimes the only compass worth following is the one that beats beneath your own ribs.

What if the dragon was never meant to be slain?

In this entry, The Nail Tech meets her own Dragon — not in myth, but in the rain.

A story of fire, freedom, and the fierce grace that comes when we stop fearing our own power.

In this diary entry, The Nail Tech tells the story of Sheila — an unexpected visitor who arrived twice, unannounced, at the Parlour door.

What begins as a chance encounter with an eccentric woman from the tarmac becomes a lesson in divine timing, self-trust, and the mysterious ways the world answers when we finally start listening to our own map.

This is a love letter to the Sheilas of life — the angels with bags and bus passes, who appear exactly when we’re about to doubt ourselves, to remind us that guidance often comes disguised as ordinary conversation, laughter, and nail polish.

There comes a moment when your voice no longer wants to explain itself.

In The Nuance of Rejection, The Nail Tech sits with the ache of being unheard — by others, by herself — and the strange grace that follows when you finally stop fighting to be received.

What begins as heartbreak becomes a vow: to hear herself first, to honour the quiet, and to make solitude her sacred listener.
This isn’t a story of leaving; it’s a story of returning —
to hearing, to honesty, to home.

They call it a crisis. The Nail Tech calls it consciousness.

In this episode of Diary of a Nail Tech, we peel back the myth of the midlife crisis — that tired narrative of decline — and reveal what’s really happening beneath the surface: awakening.

This is where politeness meets its limit, where the hinge comes off the door, where madness becomes another word for clarity.

Speaking from the nail table and beyond — about losing the borrowed mind, reclaiming your own, and meeting rudeness with precision, not apology.

If they call your consciousness a crisis,
then lipstick your crisis every day.

In The Within, traces the quiet thread between Julian of Norwich, the medieval mystic who dared to speak of love in a time of fear, and her own modern ministry at the nail table.

Through churches, dreams, and the art of listening, The Nail Tech discovers that devotion doesn’t always wear a collar — sometimes it wears an apron and holds a brush.