This morning, I walked into the local village hall and, for the first time in thirty years, sat down for a Sunday church service.

There were three months last year that, on the surface, looked like something out of a soft-focus film.

I’ve always believed in free speech. Always. It’s a cornerstone of any decent society — the right to speak your mind, challenge the status quo, ask difficult questions, and have your say. But yesterday… yesterday tested my patience with that principle.

There’s a certain kind of fear that comes with putting yourself out there.

I’ve been circling this truth for a long time, and it’s time to stop pretending I don’t see it.

Yesterday I tackled my first ever live football commentary, and somehow it was a success despite a few chaotic moments. No major disasters, no dead air, just a lot of nerves, a lot of heart, and one very relieved commentator.

I’ve got a problem: I’m terrible at saying “no.”

From a single Saturday slot to launching an entire radio station — it’s been a wild ride. I never planned on a career in radio, but somehow I ended up managing one station and founding another. Here’s how I went from bleary-eyed breakfast shows (never again) to building something brilliant in the heart of Overton.

Last night, I went on a date.

You know those weeks where everything just feels a bit… heavy? That was me this week. Motivation? Missing. Energy? Low. Willpower? Somewhere under a blanket with a cup of tea.