Ollie's Blog

Surviving First Dates By Ollie. I went on a first date last night. I hadn’t been on one in ages, so the whole thing felt like an event. I rushed home, made tomorrow’s lunch, threw my tea on, and hopped in the shower. Suddenly, it was all about being my most “palatable” self. I scrubbed like I was about to enter a chemical lab, brushed until I was mintier than toothpaste ads allow, and sprayed on enough cologne to suggest even my sweat had a designer label. Part of me loved the ritual—choosing an outfit, tweaking my look, editing myself into a polished little avatar. But another part was terrified. I couldn’t stop fussing with my hair, straightening my jacket, or sneaking glances in every reflective surface. Looking back, it feels silly—no one’s keeping score based on a stray hair. But vanity is universal, and on first dates it’s practically a sport. The real nerves hit on the way there. As the train pulled in, a knot tightened in my stomach. No more hiding behind messages caref...

Seasons of Change By Ollie. We are in September. The leaves are turning yellow, the air is crisp, and cafes are advertising pumpkin spice lattes while Halloween stock fills the shops. I wake up freezing and drive home in darkness. But I don’t let the change in season bring me down. As the excitement of the holidays approaches, I see autumn not only as a shift in weather, but also in mentality. Just as people embrace spring cleaning as a fresh start, autumn is the perfect time to cozy up, keep warm, and reflect. For me, that means throwing myself into crafts and leaning into home comforts—a good cup of tea, a biscuit, and the simple joy of a walk through crunchy leaves. Sometimes no antidepressant can compete with the calm of a long stroll, bundled up in layers. In Japan, this is known as forest bathing, and it reminds me of a quote I once read: “Take a walk in nature and you will come out feeling taller than the trees.” Of course, positivity doesn’t come from magic remedies—it’s of...

Rediscovering Home By Ollie I’m from a small town in the Northwest of England. It’s not particularly notable, aside from a few famous alums and a market. It isn’t one of those scenic, historic places you see in films, surrounded by trees and creeks in a picturesque haze. To be honest, I spent most of my adolescence hating it—resenting my parents for not picking a more exciting place to grow up, or at least somewhere more central. But home is home, and with it come certain comforts I used to take for granted and now appreciate. This weekend, my friend and I met up in my favourite café. It’s nothing fancy—if anything, it’s a bit rustic. The chairs creak, the tables wobble, and the toilet is tiny. Still, I always love going there. When she went up to order, I found myself bookless with a couple of minutes to spare. So I looked around and took in my surroundings: busy faces deep in conversation, dogs’ tails wagging hopefully for scraps, vinyls covering the walls with their plastic sle...

Stories in Passing By Ollie Every morning, at almost the same time, I board the tram to work. For 25 minutes I’m confined inside this metal snake with its familiar clatter and hum. Sometimes I read, other times I play a game on my phone, always with music in my ears. Anything to make the journey pass quicker. But now and then I drift away from my own distractions and scan the carriage, noticing the bodies around me — their shoes, their clothes, their expressions. I wonder where they’re headed, what’s on their minds, who they really are. Is it just our 9-to-5 lives that bind us to this same route, or something bigger pulling the strings? People watching has always been one of my favourite pastimes. I can sit for hours in a café, a station, or on this very tram, just observing. The little habits most people never notice: an old woman smiling faintly at a baby’s laugh, a nervous boyfriend edging his arm around his girlfriend, tourists murmuring foreign words like music I’ve never heard...

The Other Side of the Closet Door By Ollie Last night I was watching ParaNorman , an animated Halloween film about a young kid obsessed with zombies. The film’s great—I highly recommend it, with plenty of adult quips too. But it was the moral of the story that stuck with me: a lonely boy ostracised for being different, by his community, his peers, and even his family. Thankfully, it has a happy ending—Norman uses his gift of seeing the dead to save the town, and in turn, the town finally embraces him for who he is. As a queer kid, I really resonated with that feeling. When I was little, I was obsessed with horror. All things dark, strange, and macabre drew me in. Before I knew I was gay, I knew I wanted to be a witch, a vampire, or a werewolf. Spooky films, stories, and dressing up gave me so much joy. It was escapism at its purest—a way to dream up worlds of mystery and intrigue while enduring the dull “normality” I was expected to fit into. Watching films like Edward Scissorhands...