Things we need to talk about, right now.

The last few months have given us so many reasons to unlearn, adjust and learn again. The brain fog has been all too frequent, but it's also been a bona fide lesson on how to fight for what you know is right and for what feels good - real good. Living with intent can be catalyzed by many different experiences - sometimes you're afraid of wasted time (lies, it doesn't exist), settling for a life you won't be proud of in 10 years, or simply watching the world combust without any thought for its noise-free neighbors. Either way, I've been making an extra effort at calibrating my life - the things I do, the people I see, and the way I fill my head. 

I quit my day job.

A few months ago, I was living for the weekend with little to zero appreciation for my Monday's - Friday's. It wasn't because I was devoid of being a hard worker - in fact, the earlier stages of lockdown left me with a deep desire to merge the bedroom with the boardroom -  but more of a realization that I wasn't infatuated with the idea of getting a paycheck that didn't live up to my childhood ideals. What would my 10-year-old inner child say about the fact that she wasn't completely happy? Instead of throwing a tantrum, I decided to challenge myself by quitting my job and ventured into uncertainty, with the assurance of savings and a trip to the homeland to eat my family's groceries. 

Growing older has got me thinking more than ever about my every day's - a lifeline of fun, sparks of madness, a passionate love affair with being a "good human", subsequent childhood trauma, and an ongoing persistence to thrive. It's the moments of doubt that shake me up, force me to reevaluate what I want and where I want to be. Think of it as a midlife existential crisis, only with more hair (thank you, Nioxin) and a unique ability to bend down and get right back up. We're a generation so obsessed with living, so how can we be upset when it offers us an opportunity to do it all over again?

Unsolicited Advice. Who asked you?

We share a lot online. Every little detail of our life is captured through a "bespoke" social media algorithm - newfound relationships, sourdough hacks, questionable haircuts, losses and finds. I do it almost every day. Not because, I have to - but, because I genuinely love connecting with humans through shared experiences. On the backside of this, are wannabe Ricki Lake's, willing and ready to dish out their best advice whether you signed up or not. I put on weight? Try some green tea and apple cider vinegar! I'm single? Your time will come, sweety! I'm having a bad skin day? I have the best DIY face mask for acne! I realise that the majority of people are genuinely trying to be helpful when handing out unwanted advice, but it's honestly unnecessary and condescending. If we're looking for new ways to stage our aerial shots, we'd ask X person, Google or Dr Phil for it. Receiving unsolicited advice can often feel more like criticism to the person receiving it - perhaps, I really love my burgeoning hips or have tried every anti-pimple trick in the book, but my body just operates differently to yours. Humans have a false sense of bravado when dishing out the advice, because our egos trick us into believing that we know better and therefore have a responsibility to help anyone and everyone. But, stop. Ask for consent before advising someone on a new calorie-controlled meal or a refreshed way to find a partner, and leave your ego at the door.

The glamourization of being busy.

Have you ever found yourself binge-watching a series on Netflix, all while doing some 'light' reading, and texting a friend? I often find it so hard to be still; focusing on one thing at a time is an actual chore. Let's not even address the art of selecting an actual movie on Netflix- that's a mind fuck all on its own (30 min minimum, snacks essential). The last few months have been much of a lesson in striving to look busy - we're baking sourdough, putting puzzles together, attending Zoom meetings, reading books on childhood trauma, and putting together company reports. And, it's too much. The world may implode, so we aim to 'live our best lives"- usually with a side serving of anxiety, pressure, and an Instagram filter. There are some days where I feel like conquering the universe and some days where I spend my days in bed, with 90 Day Fiance on repeat. All perfectly valid moments and perfectly valid feelings - no matter the social stigma or side effects. Let's stop glamourising the art of being busy, and start appreciating the fact that our minds and bodies are going through a special kind of collective trauma right now. We recharge almost every object in our lives, and this includes ourselves!

Single at 31, during a global pandemic.

Being single during a global pandemic has been such a life-changer/life-saver for me. At the age of 31, I've found myself unemployed, single, childless, and 100% sure that this was where I was meant to be. I've often been alone, but not truly alone - usually because I was yearning for more, going on questionable dates with questionable humans, and filling my space with the most exquisite form of busy. Lockdown forced me to reevaluate my aloneness; I had no one to fill up the gaps and had to find a new way to immerse myself in the cracks of my conscience. It was awkward and sometimes filled with one-on-one date nights, puzzling frustrations, and solo dances in my living room (Jerusalema, why do you evade me?), but it taught me an invaluable lesson in soaking up my own company. For the first time in a long time, I've finally learned to embrace myself without any apologies. 

Disclosure: No wine bottle was harmed while capturing these thoughts.