Finding Him, Finding Me

I wrote this book because one day I realised I could no longer picture his face clearly.Finding Him, Finding Me is the true story of how I stumbled into the last great love of my life — while wearing a questionable denim jacket and spiralling internally at all times.After a year in Australia and a relationship that crashed and burned, I came home to London with nothing to show for it but sun damage and bad decisions. I took a job behind the bar at The Pennyfarthing, a gay pub in Hammersmith. And then William walked in.What followed was messy, tender, and absolutely terrifying. First dates. Third-date rules. Lock-ins with my chaotic chosen family (a ginger lezza, three gays, and one very judgemental Portuguese bartender). And a love that crept up on me when I least expected it — and changed everything.Set in the early 1990s, when the AIDS crisis still cast a long shadow and queer spaces were sanctuaries, this memoir is funny, heartbreaking, and deeply human. It’s for anyone who’s ever felt like they’re too much, or not enough, or just trying to figure out where they belong.Finding him changed me. Finding myself took a bit longer.”Love didn’t vanish when I lost him. It changed shape. And somehow, there was space for more.”