Welcome to “Thirty Something (Plus VAT)“
Before we dive in, let’s get one thing straight — this blog isn’t here to give you the secret formula to healing, 10 steps to a better life, or any other neatly packaged nonsense. I’m not your guru, there’s no life coach certificate framed on the wall, I’m just a woman in her thirty-somethings (plus VAT, yep cheers for that), winging it through the chaos of life, healing from emotional neglect, questionable choices, and a childhood that left more questions than hugs.
This isn’t your typical blog, there is no twelve-step plan to emotional enlightenment, and absolutely no promise that what you read here will make any sense next to the post before it.
Because that’s not how life works.
And it’s definitely not how my brain works.
My thoughts? They don’t come in order. There’s no content calendar or strategy here, just raw reflections, sarcastic outbursts, awkward moments, and the occasional rant about dating profiles that say “honest, drama-free, love long walks” (aka code for emotionally unavailable and weird about their ex).
Some days I’m reflective, other days I’m furious. One moment I’m knee-deep in childhood trauma, the next I’m ranting about someone ghosting me after five messages and a ‘Hi, hun.’ My thoughts don’t land in order and neither does this blog. So, if you’re after something tidy and structured, you might want to try Pinterest.
This space is for the emotionally neglected, the socially awkward, the overthinkers, the ones who’ve had to become their own mums, dads, therapists, and best friends. It’s for anyone who’s ever sat in the corner of a playground feeling like they missed the memo on how to be a functioning adult. Spoiler: there was no memo. We were just raised by people who thought silence and sarcasm were enough to parent a child.
You’ll get stories here. Some raw, some funny, some probably a bit uncomfortable. But they’ll all be real. From navigating boundaries with family who think a roof and a Sunday dinner is the same as love, to surviving the hellscape that is online dating.
Expect honesty, some swearing, and the occasional deep thought, probably sandwiched between mentions of chin pubes and unshaven legs.
This is “Thirty Something (Plus VAT)” — because I’m old enough to have seen a lot of shit, but not quite ready to buy a caravan and take up bingo.
Let’s go.
Lottie James
Running on caffeine, bad decisions, and emotional damage.
Thirty Something Plus VAT 