No one told me it would be like this: The last year of my thirties...

Photography by https://www.camillemariebieber.com/

It’s Saturday, the 23rd of November, and I’m lying in bed, in my bedroom at my mother’s house. It’s the night before I turn 39. No one told me it would be like this…

I thought my life would look very different by now. Tomorrow, I turn 39! I’m female,

unmarried, childless, with no pension and self employed. I’m living at my father’s flat who I didn’t know for half of my life, in his bedroom, while he sleeps in the living room (but more on that later). Aside from owning a dog and running my own business my life feels like a complete shit show, at least if I compare it to others.

And yes, I know comparison is the thief of joy, but it’s hard not to. On Instagram, I see people buying homes in London (one of the most expensive capitals to live in), expecting baby number two, strutting around in sports-luxe gear, teaching yoga or Pilates, and living off matcha or turmeric lattes. And again, I’m quite aware I teach both yoga and Pilates, drink matcha and wear Lulu Lemon the irony, I wonder, am I also product of my own triggers?

So, what should life look like at 39?

Honestly, I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t meant to be like this…or maybe it was?

I’ve been officially single for almost a year now, a record for me. And do you know what? I’m actually happy. For the past two decades, I battled my way through relationships, often coming out worse after each breakup. Let’s just say I had two relationships that truly broke me, one far worse than the other. The third relationship was actually great, but I wasn’t in the right headspace to be with someone, and I’m still not. But let’s not go there for now.

What’s important is that I’ve spent the last three years putting myself back together. And I’m finally starting to feel like a whole person.

I’m not quite sure what I was expecting. Even the dating pool in London seems smaller, or maybe I’m just not interested anymore. That’s why I’ve stopped dating altogether. Sometimes, I wonder why neither of my long-term relationships, one lasting eight years, the other seven (in total with a long interval) resulted in marriage or children. But when I think about it, I’m the one who put the brakes on commitment.

I was scared, terrified even of forming that kind of bond with someone. Every time we spoke of the future, I’d feel trapped. And yet, a part of me wanted that commitment so badly.

So, how did I wind up here? Living in a spare room at my father’s in southeast London, working, sleeping, and eating in the same room with just one cupboard of belongings. I feel like the adult, female version of Harry Potter, except I volunteered to live under the stairs.

Am I unlovable? Unmarriable? Or is it simply that I don’t want the conventional things that others do? I think it’s the latter.

It’s now Sunday, the 24th of November. I’m in bed after celebrating my 39th trip around the sun.

I woke up around 7 a.m., and Frankie, my dog, jumped up for a cuddle before going back to sleep until 10:30! I remembered it was my birthday and, for a moment, wanted to hide away. But something shifted. The heavy blanket of dread and despair I’d been feeling had vanished. I actually felt…okay. How odd.

Despite feeling physically run-down with a cold, I heard my mum downstairs. I grabbed my dressing gown and headed down. “Wait, wait, wait,” she called out. “Don’t come in here yet!”

All of a sudden, Stevie Wonder’s Happy Birthday was blaring through the house. Mum’s new partner was in the living room, and when I walked in, there were presents and cards waiting for me, just like when I was a little girl. It touched my heart. It was exactly what I needed. Mum even came in singing with a cupcake. For the first time in a while, I felt truly special and loved.

We went for a walk on the beach, met my cousin and his wife for coffee, and then had a Sunday roast. Mum ordered a bottle of champagne, she loves celebrating with champagne. I gave up drinking a few years ago, but it was nice to toast another year of being alive. We all ate way too much, including Frankie, and came back home. I spoke to my oldest and best friend and then ended the day watching a movie. It was one of the best birthday's I've had in years.

Don’t you find it’s so easy to focus on the things we don’t have, rather than being grateful for what we do? How often do we stop and think: Wow, I’m so lucky to have my health, my family, my friends, clothes in my wardrobe, a roof over my head, running hot water to wash in, and cold water to drink from the tap.

It’s up to us to create lives we’re content with. One thing I’ve learned is that you can’t find happiness in someone else, somewhere else, or something else. You have to find that place within you. Yoga and its teachings from eastern philosophy have taught me this, which I’m truly grateful for.

Who knows where we’ll be in the next year of our lives? No one can tell us what will happen in the future. All I know is it’s important to look after our minds and our bodies while we’re here, having a sustainable yoga practice and Classical Pilates background supports me in life physically, mentally and I'm lucky that's it's also my career. What helps you have a healthy mind and body?

Let’s start from here, together, today. What do you have that you’re grateful for? What gets you out of bed each morning to face the world? What makes you feel alive?

So, I’m going to do my best to enjoy the last year of my 30s because life is precious, our time here isn’t infinite. We have to be grateful for everything and everyone we have in this moment.

No one told me it would be like this, but it turns out being 39 isn’t so bad after all.