I was always advised by my long-suffering Father of 6, to reach for the stars and if you don’t grab a star, then you’ll at least grab some star dust.

So far in life, I don’t feel like I’ve grabbed any star dust (I have 2 stars I’m proud to say – my funny, hot, witty husband to be and our 1-year-old son, Harry, our absolute proud and joy) for me. Me, as in me. Jenny. Not wife to be, not Mummy, daughter, sister, aunty, the worker bee. Me. Don’t get me wrong, I love, no I adore being all of these, but sometimes, I long to be me just Me.

So at the ripe old age of 33 and 11 months, for the first time ever in my life, I’ve decided to do just that. I’ve decided that for once, I’m going to do just as I want to – and talk. Or rather rant.

Rant. I just love this one singular word, with no connotations.

You see, I simply love ranting. About anything. So here goes; my rant on life.

Rant by JD – this is just the start of it.