It’s the day before New Year’s eve and it’s the end of a decade. I feel like I’ve missed something, missed out on years of time flashing past me before I noticed. I feel as though the years between 26 and 36 have been a blur. So much has happened, yet here I still am.
The 1-photo-from-each-year posts are doing the rounds on social media, but for once I don’t feel the need to join in. So many important moments, so many memories. This decade has been a ride, for sure.
Back in 2009 I was working myself to the bone in retail. Ten years on, at the end of 2019, I’ve got married, bought a house, left ‘a few’ jobs and now work for myself, been fat and thin and fat again and survived depression. My hair has been blonde, brown and is now mostly settled back to ginger (currently hot pink and blue). I got cfs/me, went to lots of therapy, lost myself, found myself, got a master’s degree, and got accepted onto a PhD. Also, sometime back in 2011 I started a minimalism blog, which is still here 8 years later!
10 years ago, I didn’t know myself. I was caught up in a world that was changing me into someone I wasn’t – but I couldn’t see it until it was too late. There have been highs and lows, flatness and grey. Colour has faded and returned, like the slow ebb and breath of breaking waves. A young woman has settled, has learnt, has accepted. Now she is older, approaching middle age in the decade to come, more at peace, more in tune.
I leave the fight behind. I leave the struggle, the constant doubt, the comparison. I wouldn’t want to relive this decade but I am glad for it, for the things it has taught me, the people it has brought me, the person I now am.
I look into the next ten years with curiosity, with self-belief, with connection and with peace. Peace upon the last ten years. Peace upon the next.