Single..Not so ready to mingle.

Being single in 2018 is quite literally the mind f**k. You're dealing with what's left of Tinder and the Lonely Hearts column - oh, and a tub of ice-cream (kidding, I've pretty much self-diagnosed myself with lactose intolerance). This is the first time I've been solo in over two years and I've got to be honest - it ain't that bad.

My ex-boyfriend and I split up in July after he moved to Spain on a short work gig. Three weeks in and he ended it over WhatsApp, moved on with his life and decided to live in Europe. It felt like a legit mental slap in the face - my life had changed in a second, and I didn't see the crash approaching.

At that stage, I had two ways to look at the situation - I could either fall to pieces (which I did at times) or I could choose to embrace a journey on my own. At the age of 29, I was pretty content to know who I was spending the rest of my life with - but, the truth was, I was spending it with myself. They say that the most important relationship you can have is with yourself - completely corny, but true.

I travelled. Hard. Wanderlust is not the cheapest of hobbies, but it does afford you the ability to look at yourself and your life in various dimensions. You're meeting new people, indulging in adventure and feasting on foreign food - it forces you to grow in a way. I honestly believe that exploring new places and interacting with new people can often offer you the cheapest therapy that you'll ever need. Being on your own can also force you to face your emotions in a whole new way. When you're with someone for so long, it's easy to get lost in being together and to forget to confront yourself when you need to.

I've started painting again, joined the gym (not a success story as yet), almost passed out in a Bikram yoga class, made new friends, started meditating (no howling at the moon sadly) and have spent tons of time by myself. It's been super gratifying in the sense that after 29 years, I've finally started to appreciate myself, my strength and my own company. We profess to do it, but it's only when we're truly alone that we begin to dig a little deeper - exploring the crevices of our minds to acknowledge the fact that there is so much spark in our lives!

People keep telling me that I look "happy". And, I do feel that way 80% of the time. There's no shame in admitting that it takes minutes/weeks/months to move into your own space, after occupying it with another soul for so long. Right now, it's a work in progress that I'm continually trying to own - only you know your true worth, and it's up to you to decide who plays in that space. 

Find out what makes you feel good, and go do more of that. We're too old to not live our lives with complete intention and raw energy - immerse yourself in the spark and in yourself. It's completely worth it.

Screw the plans

Being in the present is often harder than it sounds. I often think of my life - the things I've accomplished, the experiences I've relished in and the moments I've cursed - and I'm astounded by how it's the bare-skin, uncomplicated and unforeseen memories that truly made all the difference.

Sounds cliche I know - I promise I'm not trying to convert you into a tie-dyed, bushy-tailed homo sapien. But, let me share a bit. I've been lucky enough to travel to 6 countries in the last 12 months - stuffing my eyes with wonder has been one of the most gratifying experiences of my life and one that has changed me infinitely. However, it's the unplanned and unintentional which have had the deepest impact on my life as it stands.

Lazing at home, letting the warmth of the fire place heat up my sensors, while I played Jenga with a beautiful soul and gazed into a glass of fermentation. Riding solo to a supermarket in Nairobi to buy 'love' tea and chatting to a mother-daughter duo who thrilled me with their sense of candor. Clutching my mom in bed when I realised that she only had 3 months to live, and frantically telling her how she was the best mother I could ever have asked for. 

Attempting to swim in the ocean on a recent holiday to Phuket, and realising how I didn't give a damn about the eyeliner trickling down my skin. Asking a waiter for an extra shot of rum, receiving a tot of lime and laughing over the fact that I can't pronounce my R's - yes, the impending speech therapy is an internal joke.

These are the breaths that have left the biggest, beautiful marks on my existence. They've revealed insecurities, forced me to face fears and more importantly, they've showed me how to love. Submerging your soul in present emotions can be both the easiest and the hardest. We're running and diverting; we're frantically trying to experience as much as we can so that we don't miss out. But, in retrospect it's the undesigned that often weave us into the people we are today. 

The point I'm trying to make is that every second offers you an opportunity to grow in some way or the other - it's never prescribed, but it's your perception that makes the biggest difference. 

Cape Town, where art though?

It's been exactly 36 months since I've truly projected my mind on to a piece of paper and I'm not sure why. What I have realised in this time is that we often get so stuck into a life of routine that we forget to touch base with our idiosyncrasies. With those moments that once made us feel whole and with those obsessions that left us howling with fervour.

I've always been the biggest preacher of living your life with complete authenticity, but have not quite lived up to this over the last couple years. Living in Joburg has definitely added to my lack of self-reflection - we get so caught up in the hustle, the money and the 9-5 that we forget about the things that really matter. We work ridiculously hard to make money, so that we can spend even more money to live a Jozi life. What bullshit is this? Mind fuck of note.

Recently, I've been reminiscing about my care-free life in Cape Town and it was a recent trip to Thailand that forced me into a self-induced 28-year-old crisis. Thailand in all it's ladyboy shows and G&T buckets was a complete dream - I went to the beach, swam (no, I lie - I just waved my arms around like a seagull), canoed, visited temples and walked the streets like the smart-ass I knew I was. The extreme freedom of just walking around a city, eating street food and and tumbling into the seashore was something I never knew I would miss as much as I do right now. 

Jozi has turned many of us into "handbag beneath the car seat", 'lets-head-to-the-coolest-restaurant and order drinks we can't pronounce' human robots. And, I'm exhausted. To truly revolutionize my experience in Jozi I've committed to a few personal musts. For one, I'm tired of making money to spend money! 

Instead I've vowed to head back to a few pieces of meat (soya for me) on the braai and an unapologetic glass of wine in a lacklustre cup. Nights in with a familiar face and zero pressure to make a social appearance. Or, I could always walk around Zoo Lake and pretend it was Clifton - complete with ducks and bad tans. 

The point I'm trying to make is that we often have to make the best of a situation so that we can eventually live an even better life. I'm not swearing off Jozi at this moment but I am eager to get back to the Kaap pretty damn soon. Until then, I'm conscious of the fact that in order to be truly happy, I have to swear off the must-do's and must-have's. 

At my core, I'm a simple soul who really just wants to wear minimal make-up (I mean, have you even seen my real face?), put my iPod in and chill out. It's funny how a vacation can bring that out of you. Wanderlust - it's the motto of the wealthy and the formula for a good life.