Some days at Guinea Gourmet Treats are beautifully chaotic. Others are just chaotic. Today… was both.
I spent the morning cooking, washing clothes, scheduling content, handling the business… the usual multi-tab chaos of being a mum, a partner, a business owner — and, somewhere under there, still just a woman trying to hold onto herself.
The Music Starts Talking
The only thing that kept me steady today? Music. Loud, unapologetic, feel-it-in-your-bones music.
I caught myself dancing while making toast, swinging my hips to Brantley Gilbert and shouting along to Aston's “Middle Fingers” — and I realised something:
I’m coming back.
There was a time when I’d dance every time I worked. Not just for exercise, but because movement was my rebellion. My freedom. It’s not about who’s watching, or if I look good doing it — it’s about feeling alive. And today, I felt it again.
Even with my partner walking in and out, talking through shows, piling laundry next to me with unspoken expectation… I still danced. Even when he snapped because I dared to listen to the TV over his words… I chose me. I walked away. No drama. Just silence. Power.
Conversations That Drain
I had a chat with my partner earlier — I brought up something I'd read about how women who walk with confidence are less likely to be targeted. The kind of info I want to pass on to my daughter. But the conversation derailed like it often does…
He made a comment about “well then you attract women who abuse you instead”, and shifted it to how he walks, how confident he is, how safe he feels.
It’s always fascinating how these conversations get flipped. It’s rarely about what I’m trying to say. It becomes a monologue, a spotlight, another detour away from the point.
Micro-Moments That Say Everything
Later, my daughter ate all her dinner and quietly asked me if she could have toast — but asked in secret, whispering because she was worried her dad would tell her off.
I told her she was fine. That I said yes. That I’d handle it if anyone kicked off.
It hit me — how much even the kids are adapting around the emotional weather of this house.
How often I’m the buffer. The translator. The one who smooths things over so no one has to deal with a reaction.
It’s exhausting.
Even on a “light day.”
But Then… the Shift
As the night went on, I put my dreads up in a mohawk twist. Not for anyone else — just for me. Something edgy. Clean. Practical. A little punk.
I blasted Chris Brown’s “Wet the Bed”, then slid into Geko, NSG, and back around to country bangers. I danced while I worked. I lost track of the noise. I stopped caring about what anyone thought.
In that space — I was me.
Not Mum. Not Partner.
Just a woman, in her groove, running a small animal treat business, reclaiming her rhythm one beat at a time.
🐾 Why I’m Sharing This
Because GGT isn’t just a business. It’s my breath. It’s how I stay connected to the parts of me I refuse to let disappear.
When you see me posting forage blends, talking about your orders, or sharing behind-the-scenes videos of treats being packed… know that it’s more than just content.
It’s survival. It’s healing. It’s joy.
Wrapped in dried dandelion and hornbeam leaves.
This is what supporting small really looks like sometimes.
Not polished. Not always perfect. But real. And still dancing.
— Tara x
www.guineagourmettreats.co.uk
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