Life, chaos, and cats—with a side of accidental internet success. I’m Mandy: midlife, single forever, and somehow making a living sharing honest stories, product reviews, and the occasional existential crisis. Expect travel adventures, neurodivergent-friendly finds, and daily life with five rescue cats. It’s a bit messy, a bit magical, and always real.
I’ve made an intentional decision — not just to live the soft life, but to work through it too.
You might already know that I’m what some people would call an accidental influencer. I never set out to be a content creator, but here I am — with multiple platforms, an Amazon storefront, and a TikTok shop presence that’s been quietly evolving behind the scenes.
If you’ve read my recent post about TikTok imploding, you’ll know that one of the reasons I believe the platform is struggling is because everything’s gotten louder. The voices are more frantic. The energy is more frantic. “Buy this now! Flash sale! Only 2 minutes left!”
And lately, that energy has crept into lives too — creators shouting about countdown deals like they’re auctioneers at a car boot sale. I tried it over the weekend. I hated it.
Because here’s the truth: I don’t want to live a “buy this now” life.
I want to tell stories.
I’ve always been a storyteller. That’s why I became a professional photographer — not to take pretty pictures, but to capture moments that say something. Telling stories builds community. It helps people see themselves in your world. And if someone buys a product at the end of that? Amazing. But if they leave feeling seen — that’s even better.
So yes, you’ll start to see a shift in my content.
More soft life. More honesty. More calm.
More quiet moments with cats and coffee and trousers that make me feel like the main character.
If it all falls apart and I can’t pay the rent, then fine — I’ll shout into the algorithm void and fight for my life like everyone else. But for now? I’m taking a multi-platform approach across my blog, TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Amazon. I believe that somewhere in the middle of all of that, I can build something sustainable — something that feels like me.
Because I want to create content that inspires people, not overwhelms them. I want people to feel welcome in my corner of the internet. I want to work in a way that doesn’t cost me my soul.
And if you’re still here — still reading — then maybe you’re looking for that too.
So let’s build it. Slowly. Softly. And on our own terms.
Let me tell you about the TikTok rollercoaster. Not the metaphorical one you imagine—though yes, emotionally it’s very Space Mountain—I mean the actual one. You know the ride at the fair that’s equal parts thrilling and mildly traumatic, where you’re clinging on for dear life and slightly wondering if the whole thing’s going to collapse mid-ride? Yeah. That one. That’s TikTok for creators.
For weeks now, I’ve been posting daily, trying every format, every funnel strategy, every half-whispered rumour about what might please the algorithm gods. I’ve been methodical. Strategic. Possibly a little bit obsessed. And for the most part, it’s been… quiet. Not awful. Not great. Just that kind of deafening silence where you start wondering if TikTok’s shadowbanned you for having too much personality.
Then something weird happened.
I posted a video—a comedy skit about my bra, of all things. A silly little moment where I’m minding my business (and by that I mean not wearing a bra), and Auntie Brenda phones in with her usual menopausal rage about underwire and the structural failures of modern support garments.
It wasn’t meant to sell anything. It wasn’t polished or aspirational. I was just wearing an outfit I liked—good trousers, soft oversized tee—because it happened to be clean. That’s it.
Except then… it took off.
The video got over 12,000 views. People started asking where my trousers were from. Where my T-shirt was from. I’ve been trying to get people to buy fashion through my account for two years, and I’ve never seen that kind of reaction.
In the past 24 hours, I’ve sold multiple pieces from that video—three pairs of trousers and two tees, just by existing in a mildly exasperated state and letting Brenda do her thing. No big call to action. No link in the caption. Just a moment of actual life.
So what does this mean? That bras are cursed? Possibly. That people respond to realness? Definitely. That you can spend weeks planning your content calendar only to accidentally make sales in a video where you’re being bullied by an off-screen character you made up for a laugh? Absolutely.
I don’t have a neat conclusion here, except this: if you’re a creator, especially one trying to sell things, don’t underestimate the power of being yourself (or being your chaotic alter ego’s unwilling sidekick). I’m going to keep experimenting, keep posting what feels good, and maybe—just maybe—listen to Brenda a little more often.
Because apparently, she knows how to shift product.
Postscript: The Algorithm is a 1980s Council Slide
Honestly, the TikTok experience is less “tech platform” and more “makeshift amusement ride built in 1984 by someone from the council with leftover scaffolding and a dream.”
Gen X will get it: those metal slides that were either freezing cold or scalding hot, shot you down at 80mph, and deposited you in bark chippings with permanent emotional damage. That’s TikTok. Every day.
If you haven’t heard of it, it’s a (very real) concept rollercoaster designed to gently kill you with a series of increasingly intense loops. Honestly? That’s how this app feels sometimes. It starts off all excitement and promise, then slowly spins you into existential despair.
But despite it all? We’re still here. Still creating. Still uploading. Still selling trousers by accident while trying to survive the ride.
TikTok may be the Euthanasia Coaster of content creation—but I’m still strapped in, arms up, screaming into the algorithmic void.
Let’s talk about that delightful little brain trick where the second you feel even slightly sad, you go full Sherlock Holmes on yourself trying to figure out whether it’s just a down day or the start of another trip down the depression mine shaft. Spoiler alert: there are no clear signs. No flashing neon that says “This is fine” or “Welcome back to the void.” Just vibes. And not the good kind.
This week? The vibes have been terrible.
It started with one thing—one stupid little thing—toppling. And like any good neurodivergent woman, my brain took that as an excuse to spiral into a full symphony of what ifs, what now, and oh god not again.
Because here’s the truth: when you’re autistic and life loses its comforting sense of constancy, your mental health is usually the first to file for divorce. We like stability. We like the known. We do not enjoy surprise plot twists. Especially the ones that come without commercial breaks or a warning at the top that says “this episode contains scenes of emotional peril.”
I’ve done all the things this week. Manifested like a woman possessed. Hugged my cats like they were emotional support therapy cushions (because they are). I’ve sipped ceremonial matcha and whispered sweet nothings to the universe while wondering if my brain is quietly sabotaging me behind my back.
Because once you’ve had depression—proper depression—you don’t just feel sad anymore. You interrogate the sadness. Is this depression again? Is this hormones? Is it burnout? Is it because Mercury’s retrograde and I haven’t saged my living room recently? Or am I just reacting normally to circumstances that are, in fact, a bit shit?
The answer, unfortunately, is probably “all of the above.”
And layered on top of that is the charming internalised monologue of my mother telling me I was born to make people unhappy and ruin lives. Lovely stuff. Really puts a bow on the whole experience.
So yes, I’ve spent too much time thinking this week. I’ve tried to soft life my way out of it with cosy corners and scented candles. I’ve tried to remind myself that just because I feel low doesn’t mean I’m doomed. But there's still a niggling fear at the back of my mind that happiness isn’t for people like me. That maybe I manifested too hard and the universe’s returns policy has kicked in.
But I’m still here. And if you are too—reading this, nodding along, wondering if you’re the only one panic-checking your mental health status every time your mood drops—then please know you’re not alone.
We’re not broken. We’re just human. Neurospicy, overthinking, cat-hugging humans trying our best to get through the week without crying on the bus.
🔗 Soft Life Tools for When You're Falling Apart (But Aesthetically)
Ceremonial Matcha Powder – The one I actually like, because no one needs bitter grass water when they’re already emotionally fragile.
If you're someone who's been googling "how to know if you're depressed again" or "how to stop overthinking everything at 3am", welcome. You're in good company. This blog is filled with soft life comforts, neurodivergent tools, and tiny hacks that sometimes (just sometimes) help stop the spiralling. You’ll find my favourite matcha, the only wax melt that smells like emotional stability, and the cat-approved blanket I basically live under when life gets a bit much.
I’ve been on MJ (you know the one—starts with Moun, ends in jaro, but we don’t say it too loudly online) since the end of October 2024. I started on the lowest dose—2.5mg—and today I’ve just moved up to 10mg. I’m not quite at my target yet, but I’m getting close.
And along the way, there are a few things I’ve learned—things no one really tells you, and things that might not happen to everyone, but they definitely happened to me.
So here they are. Unfiltered. Midlife. Neurodivergent. Real.
1. The energy crash is real.
I have type 2 diabetes, and what I didn’t realise was just how much MJ would affect my energy levels. Around week 7, I felt like I was living on the sofa. Not in a romanticised “main character in a cottagecore film” way—more like I was permanently horizontal.
Each time I’ve increased my dose, I’ve had to go through a weird adjustment phase. My body kind of… forgets how to function for a bit. The energy I used to rely on just vanishes. But the good news? It does come back. Slowly. But you have to be gentle with yourself while you wait for the reboot. I'd also suggest taking a good targeted multivitamin like My Journey from Wellgard which was designed for people like you and me, together on this journey
2. Food noise? Gone. Appetite? Also missing.
Everyone talks about MJ getting rid of “food noise”—and it does. But what they don’t mention is how confusing it is when your brain no longer knows what it wants. Not in a oh, I’m being good today way. In a staring at a menu for 40 minutes like you’ve never eaten before kind of way.
You won’t feel hungry in the way you used to. You’ll probably eat far less. And it will mess with your head a bit. I found it genuinely hard to figure out what to cook or order. That part takes some getting used to. You won’t feel like yourself—but not in a bad way. Just… different.
3. It’s not just weight—it’s mental health, pain, and sleep.
This one surprised me the most. MJ hasn’t just helped me lose weight—it’s helped with my anxiety, my sleep, and even my fibromyalgia flares. I feel calmer. I sleep better. I’m functioning in ways I haven’t done for years.
It’s not a miracle drug, and I don’t believe in hype, but it has made me feel more like myself. A better version of myself. A version I actually like.
But here’s what youreally need to think about…
No one talks about the long-term. What happens when you hit your goal? Do you stay on it for life? What happens next?
I’ve made peace with the fact that I’ll probably be on this for the next 50 years—and at £169 a month, that’s not nothing. So it’s important to plan. Know your reasons. Have a strategy. And for the love of serotonin, go with a good pharmacy.
I use Cloud Pharmacy and they’ve been brilliant—helpful, quick, and not out here judging me when I email them in a panic. It’s not the cheapest option, but I trust them, and that counts for a lot.
Would I do it all again?
Yes. 100%. Even knowing what I know now—the exhaustion, the food confusion, the cost—I’d still do it. Because this isn’t just about weight. This is about taking control of a life that didn’t feel like mine anymore.
My only advice? Get proper guidance, make sure your targets are realistic, and find a community. The MJ communities on social media have honestly kept me going—and that support makes all the difference.
Soft life looks different for all of us. This is part of mine.
And if you’re starting this journey too, I see you. You’re not alone. You’re just… rebooting.
A day in the life of a woman running multiple income streams in flannel and a vague state of existential dread.
Let’s be honest: if the internet had a uniform, it wouldn’t be a power blazer. It would be pyjamas. Preferably flannel. Possibly patterned with cats.
Today, I lived that dream. I ran an entire digital empire—okay, a modest content creation business—from the safe, fleece-lined cocoon of my bed.
Morning: Emails, Existential Angst & Electrolytes
I opened my eyes and immediately picked up my phone like a Victorian child clutching their last orange.
Checked overnight TikTok stats (tragic), replied to two PR emails (still in bed), and accepted that my face wasn’t seeing daylight until at least noon.
Pro tip: if you’re prone to head fog before coffee, electrolytes are your best friend. I used this one from my Amazon storefront because apparently, hydration is the hill I live or die on now.
Late Morning: Filming From the Waist Up
I filmed two shoppable TikToks—hair brushed, makeup negotiable, pyjama bottoms firmly staying put.
Also recorded a “FaceTime-style” chat about fidget toys, which felt intimate until I realised I had a giant Needoh ball balanced on my shoulder like a stressy parrot. (all videos currently flopping, we move)
Lunchtime: Productivity vs Paddington
Paused to eat a beef and beetroot sandwich while rewatching Moulin Rouge! for emotional support. Ewan McGregor sang, I cried.
Then I made a coffee, lit my wax melt burner, hugged my Paddington Bear plush, and called it self-care.
Romanticising your life is a tax-deductible business strategy. Probably.
Afternoon: Affiliate Links & A Glorious 23p
I uploaded a Pinterest pin linking to my ‘Soft Life Comforts’ collection, updated my Amazon videos, and made £0.23 in commission.
Yes, twenty-three pence.
No, I will not be silenced.
Yes, I am still proud.
Evening: Final Edits in Bed, Wax Burner Lit, World Conquered
I batch-edited some content with Elliot, captioned a video about a dress that didn’t fit me (the plot twist outfit did), and scheduled everything for the next day.
I stayed in my pyjamas the entire time.
That’s what we call Main Character Energy (Flannel Edition).
The greatest lie we tell ourselves? “Just one more thing, and life will be perfect.”
For years, I believed if I just had more money, I’d finally be happy. Or if I could just be thinner, everything would magically fall into place. Spoiler: I got richer. I got thinner. And guess what? My mental health still packed its bags and went on a little holiday without me.
Here’s the reality when you live with chronic mental health issues: there’s no magic fix. No scented candle strong enough, no bubble bath deep enough, no vision board powerful enough to chemically rewire your brain. Even with medication, self-care rituals, and my best attempts at being positive (insert slightly sarcastic jazz hands here), there are still days when my mind decides to take me on a journey I absolutely did not sign up for.
Yesterday, for example, my health anxiety took me straight to “You’re definitely having a heart attack and going to die before lunchtime”—a direct route from mild discomfort to full existential crisis in under five minutes. My anxious brain doesn’t do maths properly; it takes two and two and somehow makes six… and then throws in a bonus catastrophe for fun.
And here’s where it gets complicated. I long for a peaceful life where nothing changes and everything feels safe and predictable. But also? I would hate that. Give me the gentle pace, but please don’t tell me exactly what’s around the corner. This is the neurodivergent contradiction I live with every single day. ADHD and autism together mean my brain departments aren’t exactly… collaborating. It’s less a high-functioning office and more a chaotic open-plan nightmare where everyone’s shouting and no one’s sent the memo.
So, we take it one day at a time. Some days the world feels like it’s falling down around us. But even on those days, we have to remind ourselves—this isn’t the end of the story. Tomorrow is still waiting. And while I’m under no illusion that I’ll live to 101 (though wouldn’t that be a dramatic plot twist?), I can try to make peace with the life I have now.
Some days will be a write-off. And that’s okay. On those days, be kind to yourself. Sit under the blanket. Re-watch your favourite comfort film for the fifteenth time. Eat the snack. Ignore the productivity police in your head.
Because here’s the hard truth—they’ll replace you at work before you’re even cold. You are entirely replaceable to them. But to you? You’re irreplaceable. You’re all you’ve got.
So fill your own cup first. Love yourself like you’re the most important person in the room—because you are.
I love you. And I hope—truly—that you are loved. But even if the world feels quiet today, remember this: you are enough.
In October last year, I had what we’ll politely call a “this isn’t working” moment. I’d spent every single day on a treadmill, burning calories like it was my full-time job—and yet, I was getting absolutely nowhere. Sure, I was about a stone lighter than I’d been after having tumours removed in February 2023, but the results weren’t matching the effort.
In February 2023, post-surgery, I weighed in at 14 stone 3 pounds. My BMI was high, and my menopausal body—bless her—had decided that my sole purpose in life was to eat cake and develop diabetes. Charming, really.
So when I heard about Mounjaro, I thought, why not give this a go? And in the last week of October 2024, my Mounjaro journey officially began.
Spoiler Alert: It Wasn’t Easy. Not Even a Little Bit.
For a while, Mounjaro sucked the life out of me. And I don’t mean that in a romanticised “this is fine, everything’s fine” way—I mean I spent a good seven weeks on the sofa, doing very little else except existing in a fog. The weight loss? Slow. Gradual. Frustratingly so. While social media is full of people dropping pounds faster than I drop sarcastic remarks, my journey felt like wading through treacle.
But despite the slow progress, something changed. Today, I weigh 10 stone 6. My BMI sits somewhere between 24 and 25. And while I’m still what I like to call girthy around the middle (currently a size 14), I’m content. Do I secretly want to slide back into a size 12? Of course. But if this is where I stay, that’s okay too.
That said, the journey isn’t over. I’ve had to increase my dose to 10mg because the food noise—that relentless, nagging background hum—has crept back in. And if you know, you know just how loud it can get.
It Was Never Just About Weight Loss
For me, Mounjaro wasn’t a vanity project. This was about finding peace. A quieter mind. Less anxiety. And, unexpectedly, relief from the constant inflammation and pain of fibromyalgia.
For a while there, I felt like I had my life back. I had more energy, less pain, and a mind that wasn’t constantly running on anxiety-driven chaos. And honestly, that’s why I’m continuing this journey. Not just for my body, but for my mind.
Because if you live with anxiety, you already know how much it steals from you. Your time. Your peace. Your life.
So, my journey continues. It didn’t end the way I thought it would—but I’m still here, still learning, and still working toward a life that feels a little bit calmer, a little bit lighter, and a lot more mine.
My Mounjaro Survival Kit (AKA: Things That Helped Me Get Through This Madness)
If you’re on this journey yourself, here’s what’s helped me survive and feel human again:
Wellgard My Journey Multivitamin – Fills 21 nutritional gaps and includes a hefty dose of iron. Because let’s be honest, the energy crash is real.
Wellgard Gutstar Probiotic – An absolute must if you’re on Mounjaro and dealing with, shall we say… digestive drama.
Wellgard High Fibre Gummies – Because nobody tells you that fibre becomes your best friend on this journey. Trust me, just get them.
You can find all of these in my Amazon Storefront here. And no, this isn’t just a plug—it’s literally the stuff that kept me functioning when everything felt impossible.
This post contains affiliate links. If you choose to purchase through them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for your support!
Life Lessons from the Rise, Fall, and Soft Life Reinvention of a Midlife Creator
The biggest mistake you’ll ever make is believing you’ve found your destination. That you’ve arrived. Sat-nav triumphantly declares, “You’ve reached your final destination,” and you… what? Just stop there? Unpack the metaphorical suitcase and settle in forever?
A couple of years ago, I had the chance to start my life again. I was fresh out of surgery after having two tumours removed and, like some bizarre plot twist, I’d just been signed to be managed by TikTok. And so, for the past two years, I poured my heart, soul, and every last ounce of serotonin into doing everything TikTok wanted.
I stopped writing.
I barely left the house.
I livestreamed every single day.
And it worked. I clawed my way up the ranks and became a Star Creator. Except… here’s the part they don’t tell you: after Star Creator, there’s nowhere else to go. You hit the top of the mountain only to realise it’s actually just a small, overcrowded plateau with a very steep drop on the other side.
I found myself stuck in a system where people above me were earning ridiculous sums I could never quite reach. And the more I leaned into shoppable content, the further away I moved from the person I actually am.
When the big Star Creator paydays stopped rolling in, TikTok wasted no time shoving me back down the ladder into what they call “Ascending Stars”… or as I like to call it, Descending Stars™, because nothing says “motivational career progression” like being demoted with all the enthusiasm of a sad trombone.
For nine long months, I lived under the crushing weight of sales targets—something no neurodivergent person should ever have to endure. And now? Now I’m floating in some weird no-man’s-land, realising I’ve learned everything there is to know about TikTok… and maybe that’s the whole point.
Maybe TikTok wasn’t the end game.
Maybe it was just the training ground.
Let’s be honest, TikTok is in decline. People hate the shop culture. It started as an entertainment platform, morphed into a glorified marketplace, and promptly lost all sense of identity. Now it suppresses shoppable posts so much that creators are fighting tooth and nail just to be seen. It’s a vicious little cycle—creators post more, content gets suppressed more, and everyone just collectively hates it. The viewers hate it. The brands are over it. And the creators? Well, we’re just standing here like, “Is this thing on?”
But here’s the funny part: I was doing affiliate marketing long before TikTok. It actually took TikTok to remind me what affiliate marketing really is. And now? I’m lucky enough to have built a social following across multiple platforms, which means I can dust myself off and start again—without having to beg the algorithm for mercy.
I went to Amazon Influencer School this week and let me tell you, nothing says “wake-up call” like sitting in a room full of people who don’t even have TikTok accounts and are still absolutely smashing it. Imagine my shock—turns out, the world doesn’t revolve around TikTok after all. Who knew?
And here’s the life lesson I’m taking with me into this new chapter: I know my audience. I know exactly who they are. And a lot of them? They’re not even on TikTok. They’re living their best midlife moments reading blogs, enjoying long-form content, and embracing the kind of joy that doesn’t involve spending three hours filming a 15-second video.
It’s never too late to change direction. Never too late to make a new plan. I do it all the time—I reinvent myself every couple of years because I adapt, I pivot, and I chase whatever’s working. Survival of the sassiest, if you will.
So here we are. A brand-new dawn. I’m taking myself away, living the soft life, and—perhaps most importantly—remembering who the hell I was before all of this.
Because maybe TikTok was never the end.
Maybe… it was just the beginning.
If you need me, I’ll be in my garden, living my soft life and dramatically plotting my next era. Feel free to watch from a safe distance—or come and see what I’m quietly building over on Amazon. You don’t have to buy a thing—just follow along and keep me company while I figure out what’s next.
If you’ve ever looked in the mirror and thought, “Was that wrinkle there yesterday?”—welcome to midlife, darling. But fear not, because I’ve road-tested, overused, and occasionally thrown these glow-up products across the room in frustration just to bring you this definitive list. These are the things that actually work, keep me looking semi-human on camera, and make me feel like I’ve got my life together (even if I’m crying into a Deliveroo at 9 PM).
Heads up! This post contains affiliate links, which basically means if you click and buy, I might earn a tiny commission (think: one-fifth of a coffee). It doesn’t cost you a penny extra, but it does help fund my ongoing battle against midlife chaos—and possibly my next fancy candle.
1. Wellgard Pure Collagen Hydrolysate Powder
Why I Love It:
Unflavoured, mixes like a dream, and doesn’t taste like despair. This is my daily scoop of “please hold it together” for my skin, hair, nails, and whatever remains of my collagen reserves. Bonus—it doesn’t turn into that weird jelly sludge some powders do.
Mandy’s Verdict: “Like therapy, but cheaper and with better skin results.” get it here on Amazon
2. A Silk Pillowcase
Why I Love It:
Is it the key to waking up looking like a Disney princess? Absolutely not. But it does stop my hair from looking like I’ve been in a fight with the tumble dryer overnight, and that’s all the glow-up I’m asking for at this point.
Mandy’s Verdict: “It’s luxury for my face while I sleep, even if my pyjamas are one elastic thread away from retirement.” Get it here on Amazon
3. Nespresso Vertuo Coffee Machine
Why I Love It:
This machine is the reason I look semi-conscious in the morning and not like I’ve just been dug up. Press a button, feel like a barista, and wonder why you ever settled for instant coffee in the first place.
Mandy’s Verdict: “I may not have my life together, but my coffee game is utterly superior.” Get it here on Amazon
4. A Fancy Candle That Smells Like You Have Your Life Together
Why I Love It:
Nothing says “I’m thriving” quite like a £20 candle burning away while you eat crisps for dinner. It’s the ultimate illusion—your house smells like a spa, even if the only bath you’re taking is in self-pity. Bonus points if it’s got a pretentious name like “Moonlit Fig” or “Cashmere Dreams.”
Mandy’s Verdict: “Am I manifesting my best life or just covering up the scent of yesterday’s Deliveroo? Who’s to say?” Get it here on Amazon
5. Ninja Thirsti Water Bottle
Why I Love It:
This bottle is a game-changer for staying hydrated in style. Designed for carbonated, hot, and cold drinks, it features triple insulation to keep your beverages at the perfect temperature. The leak-proof lid ensures no spills, and its sleek design fits comfortably in car cup holders. Plus, it's dishwasher-safe, making cleanup a breeze.
Mandy’s Verdict: “Hydration without the hassle—because midlife glow-ups shouldn't involve soggy handbags.” Get it here on Amazon
6. A Fan Powerful Enough to Simulate a Wind Tunnel
Why I Love It:
Forget dainty little desk fans; this is about survival. Whether it’s a heatwave or a hormonal inferno, a proper fan is a non-negotiable midlife essential. Bonus points if it’s remote-controlled, because getting up is so last decade.
Mandy’s Verdict: “Not so much a glow-up as a blow-up—right in the face. And honestly, I deserve it.” Get it here on Amazon
7. Azio Beauty Intense Lifting Cream
Why I Love It:
If gravity is your greatest enemy (and honestly, same), this cream is like a tiny act of rebellion. It promises firmer, smoother skin with its collagen-boosting magic, and while I can’t confirm it’ll make you look 25 again, it will have you catching yourself in the mirror and thinking, “Okay, she’s still got it.”
Mandy’s Verdict: “It’s giving ‘rich aunt who might run away to the Riviera at any moment’—and frankly, that’s the vibe I’m going for.” Get it here on Amazon
8.
8. Spacemasks Self-Heating Eye Masks
Why I Love It:
These self-heating eye masks are a midlife must-have. Infused with a gentle jasmine scent, they warm up upon opening, providing soothing relief for tired eyes, headaches, or simply unwinding after a long day. It's like a mini spa session without leaving your sofa.
Mandy’s Verdict: “Pop one on, close your eyes, and pretend you're floating in space—far away from the chaos of daily life.” Get it here on Amazon
9. The Cosy Throw That Has Seen More of My Life Than Most People
Why I Love It:
Whether I’m binging Netflix, having a minor existential crisis, or simply avoiding the world, this throw is my constant companion. Soft, oversized, and just heavy enough to feel like a supportive hug without the commitment of actual human interaction.
Mandy’s Verdict: “I don’t need a life coach—I have this blanket and low expectations.” Get them here on Amazon
10. DRMTLGY Universal Tinted Moisturizer SPF 46
Why I Love It:
This is the “I woke up like this” product for people who, frankly, did not wake up like this. It’s an all-in-one anti-aging moisturiser, broad-spectrum SPF 46, and a universal tint that somehow flatters literally everyone. Lightweight, non-greasy, and with just enough coverage to make you look alive on Zoom calls—or, you know, when the Amazon driver catches you unprepared.
Mandy’s Verdict: “If I’m leaving the house—or staying in it—I’m wearing this. It’s my ‘please don’t ask if I’m feeling tired’ defence shield.” Get it here on Amazon
You know that feeling when you bump into an old friend and somehow years have passed—but it still feels like yesterday? That’s me, dusting off this little corner of the internet, brushing cat fur off my keyboard, and wondering where on earth the time went.
If you’re new here (or if you’ve forgotten about me entirely—rude but understandable), I’m Mandy. I’m still very much living my independent woman, slightly feral cat lady, romcom protagonist in the wrong movie life. Yes, still single forever—thank you for asking. And honestly? Not mad about it.
🐾 The Current Cat Chaos Roll Call
Charlie – Legendary cat, absolute icon, still running the household like he pays rent.
Angus Beans – The smallest, sassiest kitten with a name far too grand for his tiny legs.
Iris – The wise elder of the group, quietly judging everyone from her favourite spot.
Maggie – Found abandoned in a recycling centre and now living her absolute best life (because obviously, she owns the place).
Jasper – Technically my daughter Abigail’s cat, but you know how it goes—visitation rights and all that.
Somehow, between the cat wrangling and my long-standing phobia of bananas (yes, that’s still a thing—don’t ask), life took an unexpected turn thanks to TikTok. What started as me rambling into my phone has turned into a full-on career. I’m now a content creator across TikTok, Amazon, YouTube, and apparently back here again. Who knew over-sharing on the internet could be so profitable?
📱 Where You Can Find Me These Days
💫 Follow me on TikTok (@mandyyourtiktokmum) – for chaotic storytelling, product reviews, life updates, and occasional existential dread (with a side of cat content).
🛍️ Shop My Amazon Storefront – if you’re wondering “Where did she get that ridiculous but oddly life-improving gadget?” it’s probably here. Curated, tried, tested, and Mandy-approved.
📌 Hang out on Pinterest – perfect for late-night scrolling and finding all the pretty things I don’t actually need but desperately want.
🎥 Join me on YouTube – yes, we’re doing that now too! Expect honest reviews, a bit of chaos, and the occasional unplanned existential crisis.
This year, I’m all about embracing joy again—more travel, more cats, more unhinged product reviews, and maybe even a little theatre obsession thrown in for good measure. And if you’ve stuck with me this far, you’re officially part of the VIP club (no membership card required, just a tolerance for sarcasm and the occasional cat photobomb).
So, grab a coffee, settle in, and let’s make this next chapter the most chaotic, hilarious, and gloriously unfiltered one yet.
P.S. Tell me in the comments—what have you been up to? And if it involves acquiring more cats, please know I am fully supportive.
