I have to admit to a certain amount of confusion of late. I was asked recently by a friend 'what' I considered myself. I live in Scotland and here, in the run up to the referendum on independence next autumn, most people are trying to figure out, in essence, if they're more Scottish than British or vice versa.

Over several decades I've found that identifying ourselves in terms of such spiritual qualities can be liberating. It can loosen the grip of the conviction life is primarily shaped by material factors and bring out a sense of health, rather than sickness, being the divine default.

When diagnosed with a disease such as Parkinson's that literally takes over your life and changes everything you could possibly think of, it's hard not to be enveloped by the enormity of the situation. However, don't lose your identity and let a disease define who you are.

Are you gay or are you straight? Are you bisexual or are you a lesbian? Are you femme or are you butch? Are you fat or are you thin? Why is it that we are so preoccupied with labels or ticking the right boxes, that we forget about the individual behind the tag? Just who are we?

It began as a discussion of the benefits of wearing a fleece in the icy weather. 'It saves money on the central heating, I suppose... wearing fleeces....

While media-savvy, English speaking women are given a platform, there are many women who not only feel excluded by their analysis, but are angered that the views of one woman are somehow taken to reflect the views of women across the country, if not the region.

The nuptials are impending and soon I must choose a moniker. Or not. My fiance and I are in the middle of 'Simpson VS Froude: The 2012 surname showdown' ahead of our wedding this July.