For as long as I can remember, I always wanted to be a grown up. I wanted to wear high heels, make-up, have big boobs (they never came!), have my own car, a successful career…. As the baby of eight children, I always felt left out, too little to stay up late at night, too short to go on the rides - you know how it goes. Watching my siblings do everything that big people do, I just always wanted to be big too! Turns out, my childhood disappeared all too quickly (I recall being warned this would happen, but who believes adults when they’re little!) - and with the big 3-0 looming up next week, let’s just say I’ve been doing a heap of reflection about my life. Where have I come from? What have I achieved? Where am I headed? A scary, exciting and eye opening experience to have - one I highly recommend we take time to do more often.
This morning, while walking Tyrone (the Chug), I took some time to sit on the playground as he sniffed around the picnic tables scavenging for leftovers (I swear he would eat himself to death if given the chance). While watching him and being acutely aware that I was sitting in the playground, I started trying to think back to when life became serious. When the fun stopped and why I feel like a huge chunk of my life, the chunk that involved a little girl playing without a care in the world, ended? All too soon I became a grown up. Playgrounds were for kids and God help me if I was going to be a kid. Because of an intense desire to grow up, I lost the young, silly, innocent years all too soon.
I use to hold onto preconceived ideas about how I must look and behave as a grown up - hence the property portfolio, excelling corporate career and ever increasing stress levels (that was my life). I felt pressured to have the Uni degree so as to ensure I would have opportunities to move into prestigious roles and work for someone else to ensure job (or money) security. I needed to prove to the world, to my family more likely, that I too can be a big person who does what big people do (what that is, I still don’t know. Clearly my interpretation of adulthood was warped).
Truth is - this life I thought I should be leading, or that I thought was the life of a grown up, turned out to be mundane, uninspiring and a little soul destroying to be totally frank. Interestingly enough, however, what I’ve come to realise is I’m younger now than I have been for much of my life. And thankfully, however, on the brink of turning 30, after having made huge decisions that have left me with zero job security but the freedom to do what I love every day (yes, that would be yoga), I’ve realised that I spend more time playing, being young, silly, laughing, walking around barefoot with my hair down now than what I ever have - and I’ve never had more fun.
I feel so lucky to be cruising into my thirties with a new lease on life. That I’m choosing my path rather than having it chosen for me. That I’m content with being young and not trying to fit in with the ‘big kids’. To be the author of my life is immensely challenging, but it is real, and I know I’m going to have the time of my life writing this next chapter.
Here’s to being authentic, staying young and enjoying exactly where we are on this crazy adventure called life.