Welcome home 💌

Notes on the illusion of more.

We made it! I’m so happy you’re here, truly. Well, more accurately I’m here, in your inbox. Thank you for letting me be here.

And now for a bit of a whirlwind journey ahead of a regular publishing schedule, which will allow me to get into the depths of this stuff in more inbox-friendly sized chunks. 

I said, rather grandiosely, in my first newsletter that this space is for all the moments we forget to notice, and all the things we fail to embrace - most of all ourselves.

So why am I dedicating a corner of the internet to such a thing?

Because I found the above to be REALLY BLOODY HARD in a society that repeatedly tells you the answers are outside of you. One that tells you what you’re supposed to want, teaches you to follow and not necessarily to think, tries to put you into convenient boxes while simultaneously reinforcing that who you already are and what you already have isn’t enough.

I worked my bum off to build a life according to the above because I had unwittingly subscribed to it, only to find myself pretty disengaged, rarely present and consistently exhausted. 

Can you relate? 

As I moved further off-centre, the niggling discontent would sporadically find its way to the surface. Various attempts to steady myself through everything from shifting jobs to spiralising vegetables didn’t help, because no amount of wallpaper (or carrots masquerading as pasta) can fix a home built on the wrong foundations. Soon enough it would begin to peel, taking more layers of me with it each time.

And on the outside, I was *fine*. It all looked great. But my home, that is to say my body, kept telling me *fine* wasn’t it. The gnawing in my stomach. The restlessness. The defensiveness. The expending and then retreating. The exhaustion. 

I had no choice but to listen.

Credit to my chronic illness for the literal alarm signals there.

Paying attention was uncomfortable, but it was more comfortable than existing according to someone else’s version of a life, based on a value system I didn’t subscribe to - one that I didn’t even realise I didn’t subscribe to.

I was so contorted and stretched from the chasing and the bending over backwards and the trying to fit in, that I’d ended up losing huge parts of myself.

Of course I take some responsibility for this. For getting swept up in it all. Part of this is my design, and don’t get me wrong, I had a LOT of fun. There’s also a natural evolution that comes as you experience life - the things you seek at 20 aren’t the things you seek at 30 for example. We’re also allowed to change our minds, and taking juicy bites of life is something I would always encourage.

I think my problem is being consistently fed entirely the wrong fruit under the premise that it’s good for you, when it fact it’s steadily making you sick. 

I struggled to accept that I was (and therefore you are, because we all are) worth more than *fine*. I felt so guilty for daring to think it. I knew how much I had (have), and how lucky I was (am). But what I needed was less - less noise, less obligation, less messaging, less pressure to do and be and have. This full-up life was leaving me empty because I hadn’t stopped to question whether the things I was filling it with even mattered.

But the power that would hold is a power that ultimately changed my life. And it’s not a power that shouts loud. It’s softer, calmer, more assured. CONTENTED.

I guess it’s one that comes with the experience of a life lived.

And it’s the reason I’m sat here typing this newsletter. I don’t know how many of us truly know our own power - or would believe that we’re worth more than *fine*. And it’s not selfish or indulgent, as I perhaps once thought. As far as I can see, the people who understand and honour what makes them feel content, fulfilled and authentic generally have a positive impact on those around them. They have more to offer, in a different way. 

So I hope this newsletter will at some point, even in the smallest of ways, help you to distill some thoughts and feelings outside of being engulfed by the pressures and the interruptions and the obligations of our fast-paced world, too. 

Because as I listened and (un)learned, I realised how little there was to be afraid of in the silence that many of us so desperately try to avoid for fear of having to fully face ourselves. But face I did.

And the best thing about that big fat dollop of cliché? When I stopped trying to be or please everyone else, I really, really liked who I found.

*gasps in gumption*

And the noticing is AWESOME. The finding out is FUN. Rerouting is FANTASTIC. Play is DELIGHTFUL. Even the messing up is DELICIOUS when you view it through this lens of curiosity; dismissing the concept of failure completely in favour of simply daring to show up as yourself, for yourself.

I gained more confidence in my intuition as I took each steady step, just one at a time, often amongst a few raised eyebrows, often not knowing exactly what I was stepping towards.

But I knew I was moving beyond simply existing in the deceptive comfort of what felt familiar, and I knew it felt so much more than *fine*.

It eventually took me on a very geographical journey, yes, which we will get into another time. But it’s not about putting your life into a suitcase - I’m actually quite a homebody. I believe in plenty of so-called traditional ideas. I still have my wonderful friends, I still love the career that I built. I have so many incredible memories of the experiences that got me here. I ultimately believe that life should look like whatever you want it to look like, as long as it’s meaningful to you. 

And with that as my true north, I brought myself back to the parts of me that I’d forgotten to remember. I brought myself home - to myself.