Hi! I'm Frankie, I'm a writer, speaker and content creator, who loves opening up conversations about the big stuff, and having long days outside.
You can Contact me here.
Or read on to find out more about the why behind my 3,000 km bike ride...
It's late spring 2020, I'd been thrown from living in my van in Spain to being locked down in a borrowed holiday home in Hastings, and I feel bottomlessly guilty.
How have I ended up in a situation where I have to rely on the generosity of others to survive. It felt selfish and shameful, I felt completely undeserving of the support I was being given.
When you live and work a 9 to 5 job, and something goes wrong, it seems acceptable some how, but when you try to live a different lifestyle, and thing's go wrong it's as if there is a silent pressure, and un-voiced "I told you so" a question from loving family members "Is it time to settle down now?"
Where are the voices of people who had walked this path before? And why can't I hear them?
I love the outdoors and adventure, skiing, climbing, hiking, van life, but I don't always see myself doing it forever. I think part of that is because I don't see other people older than me out there doing the things I love.
Whenever I do meet someone, it just fills me with hope. You know those moments when you hear of someone who is 80 but still cycling, and you think "wow, I want to be like that when I'm their age"
So there I am, in Hastings, I feel like I am being sent a giant sign to just give up, get a job, get a mortgage, and settle. I don't know how to think through these feelings any more, so I do the only thing I really know, I step outside the holiday home, I leave my phone, I leave my purse. In fact I even leave my shoes.
I leave and I just start walking, breathing in the late afternoon air and breathing out all the pressure, all the unknown. I step from harsh tarmac to a softer path through the woods, picking my way through fallen leaves, and sharp stones. Concentrating so hard that for the first time in a long time my thoughts started to clear.
I knew exactly what I wanted, I didn't want to get a 9 to 5 job, or a house, or settle. I wanted to keep going, and I just wanted to find someone I could look up to and ask, "what did you do? How did you keep going when you felt like you were going against the grain?" I wanted to find someone who I could look up to, who had walked this path that it felt like I was trying to forge all over again.
The exact moment it came to me is still so clear in my mind, stepping around twisted roots I look up to see a clearing in the trees and a view across to the holiday home where I'm staying. I allow myself to take a step back from how I'm feeling and wonder "If I feel this way, are there other people out there, who need to hear these stories too?"
From that moment on I started planning how to find the stories of incredible womxn older than me, and how to share them with the people who need to hear them the most.