Honouring Myself in My 30s

Embracing Self-Love in Times of Change

Two weeks is all that is left between us and moving to New Zealand. 14 days. I previously set myself a challenge on here to write 30 blogs in 30 days, and I only made it to 20, which felt like a failure at the time. The last five blogs were a real push for me, and I struggled to know what to write or what to share. I noticed myself finding writing frustrating and something to tick off my to-do list instead of an outlet for me to express. I spoke with my mentor about this, and she kindly reminded me that we only have capacity for so much, and perhaps being pregnant and packing up our lives to move to the other side of the world was enough commitment for now. I think she was right.

I have given myself a little break, and I recognise that I needed to take a step back. Allowing space for creativity isn’t something that comes naturally to me. I have more of the struggle mindset that encourages me to persevere even when my reserves are empty. This is the very mindset I am trying to change and one which I champion all women to let go of. I know that rest and space create inspiration, yet I still find myself trying to keep up with the pressure to constantly produce, just another self-inflicted way for us to burn out. To show up constantly and create, create, create in order to keep the algorithm happy.

Like so many women, my thirties have felt like a ticking time bomb. A never-ending list of things I was meant to achieve by now that I haven’t. For me, it hit the hardest just before my 35th birthday when I started to compare myself to other people my age. Their levels of success and home ownership turning me green with envy. Perhaps it is the pressure of the invisible ‘time clock’ that hits women particularly in our mid-thirties, but it seems like our thirties are a time when, despite still being so young, we feel like we are running out of time.

I have spent a lot of my thirties feeling this way, like time is running away from me. I have, at times, convinced myself that unless I achieved something significant soon, I would have missed my opportunity. Whilst rational me knows this isn’t true, mid-thirties me tries to convince me that it is. Weighed down by the pressures of society and the milestone timelines that everyone so desperately seeks to tick off. I know that this is heightened for me by the idea of being irrelevant. To think that I might go through life without making any significant impact is something that has bothered me since I was little. I recently found a diary entry I wrote when I was nine, which I appropriately titled… Thoughts.

As I sit here and reminisce, I am forever asking myself, ‘What am I doing here?’ But really, what are we doing here? We are useless without cause. I mean, why here? Why not Mars, Venus, the Moon? Why here? To make mistakes and to hate ourselves and others after? To learn? So I will sit here forever more and find my purpose of existence. My reason for being here.

Twenty-seven years later, and 36-year-old me still battles with these questions: the idea of identity, impact, purpose, and cause. I no longer believe that purpose lies outside of myself, but instead, how I choose to purposefully show up every day. I am glad that it is Earth and not the Moon; however, some of the same sentiments remain. We are constantly making mistakes and learning as a result, and me overcommitting to show up on here when I was already operating from an empty tank is one of those lessons.

Let’s hope I learn.

As someone who has lived quite a nomadic life, I had forgotten the emotional toll moving takes. The mental preparation to say goodbye to the life I have known and hello to the one I am creating. I have also never made such a big move with another person. The decisions involved in moving have always been my own. Knowing that Ben is moving away from everything he has ever known has heightened my awareness to make the most of the time we have. To be present with the people we love and to close this chapter properly. To soak in the slow mornings and lazy afternoon walks. To be here, now.

So we have 14 days to sell the rest of our stuff, say goodbye to friends and family, and prepare ourselves for the big move. We are committing to taking three check-in suitcases between us and our carry-on luggage. A fresh start as a family of three. We have recently started to feel our girl kick, which might just be the most surreal thing I have ever experienced. To know she is in there was one thing; to feel her moving around is another.

Whilst I initially felt disappointed in myself for not sticking to the 30 days, I am now grateful that I listened to what I had capacity for. That I honoured myself when my cup was empty and gave myself the space to fill it. After all, that is my responsibility, and if there is one thing I want to teach my daughter, it’s to honour herself above all else.