In three years, I hope to be living a life that feels fully mine—full of creativity, love, and growth. I imagine running my own photography business, freelancing and capturing the world through my lens. One dream is to visit Scotland and photograph its breathtaking landscapes—rolling hills, ancient castles, and misty lochs. I’d love to explore Dumfries and Galloway, the place that inspired Sam Heughan to become the actor he is today. It would be amazing to see the surroundings that shaped someone I admire so much.
I also imagine having an online travel magazine, which, alongside my photography business, would focus on causes I care about. I’d start with conservation projects—protecting Scotland’s wild cats and America’s wild mustangs—using my work to raise awareness and inspire others to care about the natural world.
I hope to meet a man who truly sees me—a partner who connects deeply and intimately. Someone who values honesty, closeness, and love, and who dreams of building a life together.
On a personal level, I hope to form habits that nourish my body and mind. I want to eat healthier, lose weight in a sustainable way, and eventually start a family. I imagine a life where health, happiness, creativity, and love coexist, and where each day brings a sense of purpose and connection.
In three years, I want to feel proud of the life I’ve created—a life that reflects who I am and who I’m becoming. And as I chase these dreams, knowing that someone like Sam Heughan has been inspired by the same places and culture I hope to explore makes it feel even more possible.
There’s a reason we fall in love with the stage — it’s where humanity comes alive. Theatre teaches us empathy, courage, laughter, and belonging. It’s a space where art meets community, where one story told beneath the lights can change a life.
Now, one of Scotland’s most beloved theatres — Cumbernauld Theatre at Lanternhouse — faces the devastating threat of closure after losing its public funding. For more than 60 years, this stage has been a cornerstone of creativity in North Lanarkshire, giving a home to local talent, artists, schools, and audiences of all ages.
When word spread that this theatre might not survive, people across Scotland — and beyond — began to speak out. Among them was actor Sam Heughan, whose love for his homeland and passion for the arts have inspired countless others to act. Sam’s message was simple: if you can, please help.
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Why This Theatre Matters
It’s one of Scotland’s cultural heartbeats. Cumbernauld Theatre has nurtured generations of artists, writers, and performers since the 1960s. It’s a space that welcomes everyone — from children discovering drama for the first time to touring artists sharing their work with the world.
It keeps community arts alive. Beyond performances, Lanternhouse hosts educational programs, workshops, and local productions. It gives a voice to people who might never have found one otherwise. For many families, it’s the first place their children experience live art.
It symbolizes Scotland’s creative spirit. Scotland’s artistic heritage runs deep — from traditional music to storytelling, film, and theatre. Saving this theatre isn’t just about one building; it’s about preserving a national tradition of creativity, empathy, and storytelling.
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What’s at Stake
Loss of jobs: Around 40 dedicated staff and artists could lose their livelihoods.
Loss of access: Schools and community groups who rely on the theatre’s space would lose a vital platform for learning and expression.
Loss of local identity: A theatre like this connects a town to its sense of culture and pride. Its closure would leave a void that can’t be easily replaced.
A warning sign for the arts sector: Cuts to arts funding across Scotland are putting many institutions in danger. Saving Lanternhouse can send a powerful message — that communities will stand up for art.
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Sam Heughan’s Call to Action
Sam Heughan — known worldwide for his role in Outlander and his deep devotion to Scotland — has urged fans and followers to rally behind this cause. Using his platform, he’s brought visibility to the crisis, reminding people that theatre shaped his own artistic path and that it must continue to inspire others.
Sam has always believed in giving back to Scotland’s creative youth. Through his previous initiatives, such as his support of Youth Theatre Arts Scotland and the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, he’s shown that investing in art is investing in hope. His involvement in this campaign is an extension of that same spirit — standing up for the stage that gave him, and so many others, their start.
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How You Can Help Save the Theatre
Donate Directly Even a small contribution makes a difference. You can give through the official site: 👉 lanternhousearts.org/donations
Share the Story Use your social platforms to spread the word. Tag posts with #SaveCumbernauldTheatre, #SupportScottishArts, and #KeepTheCurtainRising. Sharing Sam’s post or your own message of support can help the campaign reach thousands more.
Attend Performances If you’re local or visiting Scotland, attend a show at Lanternhouse. Buying a ticket is one of the most direct ways to support the theatre’s survival.
Encourage Businesses to Sponsor or Partner Local and international businesses can help by offering sponsorships or one-time funding. Arts partnerships strengthen communities and reflect values of creativity and compassion.
Write to Representatives Citizens can contact MSPs and urge them to prioritize arts funding. Voices matter — when government officials hear how much these spaces mean to people, they’re more likely to take action.
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Why It’s Worth Saving
Theatre is not a luxury — it’s part of the human story.
It gives meaning to community life, fuels imagination, and reminds us that empathy is our shared language.
As Sam Heughan said through his support: “We can all do something. Every little bit helps.”
By saving this stage, we’re not just protecting a building — we’re preserving a piece of Scotland’s soul, ensuring that lights continue to rise, stories continue to be told, and hope continues to take the stage.
People sometimes wonder why I write about Sam Heughan so often, why my thoughts keep circling back to him. For me, the answer runs deep: as an autistic individual, the way I connect with the world is unique, intense, and sometimes hard to explain. And Sam Heughan—through his book Waypoints, his acting, his love of Scotland, and now his new Galloway Distillery—has become a rare point of focus and inspiration. He grounds me, lifts me, and shows me that following your own path can be both brave and beautiful.
The Lessons of Waypoints
When I first read Waypoints: My Scottish Journey, I didn’t just see a memoir. I saw a map of resilience. Sam walking the West Highland Way mirrored the way I sometimes feel moving through life—taking one step at a time, noticing every detail, carrying both the weight and wonder of the journey.
As an autistic person, I often feel things more sharply, both the joy and the struggle. His reflections in Waypoints gave me permission to honor that intensity rather than hide it. He reminded me that persistence and self-discovery come from being fully present, even in the uncomfortable or uncertain moments.
Rooted in Heritage
What resonates most deeply with me is Sam’s devotion to his roots. Autistic people often find comfort and strength in the places, people, or passions that anchor us. Seeing how he stays tied to Scotland—its landscapes, its history, its people—speaks to my own need for grounding and belonging. His pride in heritage makes me feel less alone in how fiercely I hold onto the things that matter most to me.
The Inspiration of Robert the Bruce and William Wallace
Part of that heritage for me—and for Sam too—lives in Scotland’s history. Sam has mentioned figures like Robert the Bruce and William Wallace, and has shown the historical sites and memorials tied to their names.
As someone autistic, I naturally connect deeply with symbols and stories, and Robert the Bruce especially inspires me. His perseverance after defeat, his resilience in the face of overwhelming odds, and his eventual triumph remind me of the same courage and authenticity Sam embodies.
I also admire William Wallace, whose fierce devotion to freedom still echoes in Scotland’s spirit. These men remind me that history is not just something in the past—it’s alive, breathing through people who carry it forward. Sam makes that history feel close, almost personal, and through him I’ve come to love and honor their legacy as well.
The Galloway Distillery — Coming Home
Sam’s new Galloway Distillery is more than just a business move. To me, it feels like a homecoming. It’s about creating something lasting in the very place that shaped him. That matters, because as someone autistic, I deeply understand the importance of place—how landscapes can soothe, how roots can steady, how home can mean safety and pride.
The distillery isn’t just whisky—it’s a story, a bridge between tradition and future, between ambition and authenticity. Watching him make that choice gives me courage to believe I can also create something of value that reflects who I am and where I come from.
How He Reaches Me in the Best Autistic Way
Sam affects me in the best autistic way possible. I often see the world in vivid detail, feel emotions with an intensity that others might overlook, and struggle to translate those feelings outward. Yet when I watch him or read his words, they cut through the noise and land with clarity.
He makes me feel understood without explanation. His honesty, his humor, his passion for Scotland—they connect directly to the way I experience life. He helps me embrace my own sensitivity, reminding me it’s not a flaw, but a form of beauty.
Outlander and the Reminder of Genuine Love
Through Outlander, Sam’s portrayal of Jamie Fraser brought me a lesson that stays close to my heart: not to forget about genuine love and devotion. Jamie’s loyalty, tenderness, and unwavering strength reminded me that real love isn’t fleeting—it’s steadfast, patient, and deeply rooted.
As an autistic individual, I sometimes worry about connection and whether I’ll find someone who truly understands me. But watching Jamie’s story gave me hope: that love built on trust and devotion is not just possible, but worth waiting and fighting for. Through Sam, that character became more than fiction—it became a reminder that genuine love still exists in this world.
Why Sam Matters to Me
To me, Sam is more than an actor or entrepreneur—he is a light. I see him as an extraordinary man with a heart of gold, an earth angel wrapped in the form of a cheeky, brilliant, joyful Scotsman. He radiates sunshine, and that light has touched me in ways I can’t always describe.
People might call it a fixation. But for me, it’s focus. It’s passion. It’s the autistic way of cherishing something—or in this case, someone—that brings meaning and balance. Sam inspires me to believe in the good, to hold onto hope, and to chase my dreams with the same authenticity he carries.
Why I Create Art With Him at the Center
People also probably wonder why I create art—and why Sam is so often the star within it. The answer is that art is how I process the world. It’s how I take feelings that are too big to hold inside and turn them into something visible, something shareable.
When Sam becomes the subject of my art, it isn’t about celebrity—it’s about connection. He symbolizes light, resilience, and joy, and weaving him into my creations is my way of honoring that.
As an autistic individual, creativity is my language. Through my drawings, edits, words, and images of him, I find both expression and calm. Sometimes, I also weave in the spirit of Robert the Bruce or William Wallace alongside him, because they too represent resilience, courage, and Scotland’s soul. Sam becomes the bridge between my inner world and the outside world—the focus that allows me to channel intensity into beauty.
Why It Inspires Me
Sam’s journey shows me that ambition and integrity can live side by side. From walking the rugged Highlands to pouring his heart into a distillery, he reminds me that success doesn’t mean abandoning who you are—it means becoming more of it.
That lesson pushes me to pursue my own creative passions, like photography, writing, and dreaming of projects that reflect my love for culture, storytelling, and conservation. His path whispers to me: your voice matters too, and what you create can carry meaning.
A Closing Reflection
Watching Sam Heughan move from Waypoints to whisky, from self-discovery to community building, I feel like I’ve witnessed the kind of journey I want for myself: rooted in authenticity, alive with courage, and full of heart.
As an autistic individual, I often long for connection, for purpose, for something steady to hold onto. Sam gives me that spark of inspiration. He shows me that even in a world that can feel overwhelming, it’s possible to stay true to who you are and still build something extraordinary.
Because sometimes, the most inspiring journeys aren’t only about the person we admire—they’re about how they awaken something inside us, reminding us to begin again, in our own way.
I blog because writing has always felt like home to me. It’s where I can let my thoughts, feelings, and passions flow without judgment. Every post is a way to open my heart—whether I’m standing up for someone I admire, sharing a reflection from my own life, or simply letting creativity spill onto the page.
For me, blogging is more than words on a screen. It’s connection. It’s the chance to reach out to others who may feel the same way, to remind them that they’re not alone, and to encourage kindness in a world that often forgets the power of compassion.
It’s also my creative outlet. Here, I can be poetic, thoughtful, reflective, or strong—sometimes all in the same post. Blogging helps me process what matters most to me, and it turns everyday experiences into something meaningful.
Most of all, I blog because it empowers me. It gives me the space to speak up about dignity, love, respect, and humanity. It’s my voice—and I’m grateful for everyone who chooses to listen.
What are the most important things needed to live a good life?
What does a good life look like for me? It’s like framing the perfect shot with my camera—catching the light just right, finding the angle that feels honest. It’s not about money or fame, but about living in a way that lets my heart sing, like I’m twirling under a Highland sky or laughing with someone who feels like home.
First, I need relationships where I can be my true self, no filters needed. Like those late-night talks with a friend, sharing cheesy love songs or a 2 a.m. snack, where I don’t worry about being “too much.” Those moments, where I can ramble about my autistic way of seeing the world—like how light dances on water—or dive into a story without feeling judged, are my lifeline. They’re the warmth that holds me together, and I want to fill my life with people who see the real me.
Then there’s my empathy, this quiet gift I’ve always had. As a kid, I’d hug strangers because I could feel their sadness; now, it’s how I connect with horses, their steady presence making me feel safe. A good life means embracing that instinct—listening deeply, offering comfort, building bridges. It’s not just about others; it’s about how alive I feel when I’m there for someone.
Creativity is my heartbeat. Photography lets me tell stories, freezing moments of light and emotion like a scene from Outlander. A good life has room for that—wandering with my camera, chasing golden hour, making something that’s mine. Even with my cybersecurity work, I need these moments, because they’re when I’m most myself.
Freedom to be me is everything. Masking to fit in is exhausting, like dimming a flame. A good life means finding spaces—friends, work, or just solo time—where my autistic self is enough. Where I can geek out about light patterns or romantic tales without feeling “weird.” That freedom is where I thrive.
I also want experiences that spark joy, not just things. A spontaneous adventure—like dancing in the rain or stargazing with someone special—beats any fancy gadget. Those heart-racing, rom-com-worthy moments are what I’ll carry forever. I want a life woven with them, whether it’s a far-off trip or a quiet laugh shared over coffee.
Balance is tough but crucial. My cybersecurity degree pays the bills, but my soul lives in photography and storytelling. A good life blends both—using my skills to support my dreams without letting them drown out what I love. It’s about small steps toward a life where I’m not just getting by but truly creating.
Finally, nature keeps me grounded. Horses, open fields, the hush of a forest—it’s where my intuition wakes up. A good life includes time there, whether I’m riding, walking, or just sitting somewhere green, feeling the earth’s pulse.
To build this life, I’ll start now: plan a photography day this month, have a heart-to-heart with a friend, and try one new way to be unapologetically me, like sharing a quirky idea at work. A good life grows from these moments, and I’m ready to nurture them.
My newest creation.my rabbit photo and AI background I made to go with it.
From the time I was a young kid, the weather has held me spellbound, a wild and awe-inspiring force that both captivates and humbles me. I can still recall the thrill of working on a middle school report about tornadoes, diving deep into their chaotic beauty and untamed power. My teacher raised an eyebrow, suggesting to my dad that I should’ve done it alone, but the truth is, I poured my heart into that project—my dad just helped me polish my ideas. That experience wasn’t just a school assignment; it lit a fire in me, sparking a lifelong reverence for Mother Nature, one of my greatest inspirations, a boundless muse whose storms, serenity, and raw beauty fuel my creativity and remind me of the deep, healing connection we share with the world around us.
When I first picked up a camera, my passion for nature found a new outlet. I dreamed of chasing storms, not just to capture their swirling formations but to preserve fleeting moments of nature’s raw, unfiltered spirit. Storms have a haunting duality—they can devastate, leaving heartbreak in their wake, yet their towering clouds and electric energy are undeniably beautiful. Through my lens, I see tornadoes as a reminder of how much we take for granted, urging us to pause and respect the forces that shape our world. Mother Nature doesn’t bow to our plans; she demands our attention, teaching us resilience and humility through her breathtaking artistry.
Beyond storms, nature in all its forms has always been my refuge. To me, nature is the greatest medicine a human being could ever have. Whether it’s the roar of thunder, the gentle rustle of leaves, or the quiet calm of a forest after rain, being immersed in the natural world feels like a reset for the soul. It heals, it grounds, it reminds me who I am. The nature of humanity and the natural world are intertwined in countless ways—through the air we breathe, the landscapes that shape our stories, and the moments of wonder that bind us to something greater. Every time I’m out there, camera in hand, I feel that connection, like I’m part of a larger story written by the earth itself.
Photography, for me, is more than a craft; it’s a way to tell stories that stir the heart, to capture the fleeting beauty of the world and share it with others. Inspired by those who live with purpose and authenticity, I want my work to reflect that same depth, to show the fierce elegance of a storm or the quiet grace of a sunrise. Mother Nature, as one of my muses, guides me to create with intention, to stay rooted in what’s real, and to honor the world’s beauty and power. Her lessons go beyond her storms—they’re in the way she calls us to live more fully, to respect her boundaries, and to find healing and meaning in every moment, no matter how fleeting.
When it comes to what I admire most in a friend, it’s all about them being real. I want someone who’s just themselves, no masks, no pretending—just straight-up authentic. Kindness is huge for me; I love people who are thoughtful, who show they care through the little things, like checking in when I’m down or just listening without judgment. A good friend’s got to be loyal, someone I can count on to have my back, whether things are going great or falling apart.
I really connect with folks who share my passions—like being out in nature, soaking in the beauty of a hike, or diving into deep, creative conversations that make you feel alive. I admire friends who get that balance between being curious about the world and staying grounded, not getting lost in fluff. Also that having Trust builds slow, through those small, genuine moments, not some big show.
Emotionally, I need a friend who’s there to lift me up—someone who’s cheering for me when I’m chasing my dreams and holding space for me when life gets heavy. I’m drawn to people with a kind of romantic, hopeful vibe, who see the good in things but still keep it real. Above all, I admire friends who live with empathy and a sense of unity—people who get that we’re all in this together, building connections that feel warm, true, and harmonious. That’s the kind of friend I vibe with.
“I hope people say that I’m a beacon of authenticity and inspiration, someone who encourages them to embrace their true selves with courage and vulnerability, just as I pour my heart into my creative work. I want them to see me as an artist and storyteller who captures the raw, unfiltered beauty of life—whether it’s through a photograph, a written narrative, or a moment of genuine connection—and inspires them to find and share their own stories. I hope they describe me as warm, empathetic, and deeply invested in the people and world around me, always striving to build relationships that are real, meaningful, and uplifting. Like the artists and individuals I admire, such as Sam Heughan, who embody passion and integrity, I want to be remembered as someone who lives with purpose, creating work that resonates emotionally and sparks others to pursue their passions fearlessly. Ultimately, I hope people say that my presence—through my art, my words, or simply the way I listen and connect—leaves them feeling seen, valued, and motivated to live more fully in their own truth.
I believed Sam Heughan represents everything I love and respect about Scotland. He isn’t just Scottish by birth—he carries his heritage with a sense of pride, authenticity, and humility that makes it even more special. He doesn’t just showcase Scotland through his work; he genuinely lives and breathes it, whether it’s through Outlander, his whisky The Sassenach, or his love for the outdoors. There’s something incredibly grounding about the way he speaks about his homeland, not as a celebrity but as someone who deeply appreciates where he comes from.
I’ve always had a deep love for Scotland, and Scottish culture has always been my favorite of the Celtic traditions. There’s something about its rich history, its breathtaking landscapes, and the simplicity and warmth of its people that I have such great affection for. Sam embodies all of that in such a natural and humble way.
My birthday wish and college graduation wish would be to spend an entire week just talking to him, getting to know him, and immersing myself in his beautiful heritage. He is so beautiful in every way—I honestly don’t know how else to describe it. What I do know is that he is one man who moves me emotionally in a way that few ever have, especially through Outlander. His presence, his passion, and the depth of his performances have left such a mark on me.
It would be one of the greatest honors of my life if I ever had the chance to cross his path before I get too old. And hey, I’m only 40—so there’s still time, right? 🤭😂😅☺️😇 hahaha I hope so. After all, I don’t wish things like that very often and life is not exactly a full surprises.
Deep Thinking 