When I turned 30 a friend told me that I’d learn so much about myself in the years to come because I wouldn’t care so much about what other people thought. Instead of focussing on how I was perceived, I’d start to consider how I felt; I’d come to know and be comfortable with who I was. She was right, as older friends usually are. I’d had four children by the time I was 35 and with that chapter closed and a rumbling discontent I could no longer ignore, I decided to do what scared me most.
This week I turned 40 and I spent the day writing because that’s what I want to do for this decade and all those that follow. It’s taken forty years for me to really accept this part of myself; the one that would rather read and write books than party and socialise. I much prefer a quiet desk over fuss and fanfare. What I (and many others) once considered a strange fault is now something I’m proud of; an innate part of who I am.
I got to know myself in my thirties and now I’m really at ease with who I’m becoming. Ease is a wonderful, precious thing and I don’t think we talk about it nearly enough, perhaps because it’s so illusive in our younger years. But what I’ve come to know is that as the years pass the cracks widen and all your truths and quirks come to the surface. You soon learn that you have no choice but to accept them - own them! - and when you do it feels like you’re finally enveloping yourself in the most heartfelt of warm hugs.
Do you know what else I know? A list is always worthwhile:
Be your greatest advocate - in every aspect of your life. Yes, support from those around you is essential but if you want something, you’re the only one who can go running for it. Start with small steps and then pick up pace along the way.