From Medium.
A collection of longer prose and reflective pieces, featuring the personal essays I’m most proud of.
These stories explore themes of personal growth, anxiety and gentle living. They’re rooted in honesty, shaped by experience and written with the hope that someone, somewhere, might feel a little less alone whilst reading.
-
On Growing, Evolving and Never Quite Arriving
For a long time, I was preoccupied with the idea of finding myself.
Somewhere along the way, whether as children, teenagers or young adults, many of us are promised that some day, we’ll arrive – that we’ll finally reach a point where we understand who we are and what we want in life.
Growing up, I believed that I’d one day find myself and then I’d never change again: I’d become the person I was meant to be and from there, everything would just make sense. I looked at adults and assumed, with unwavering faith, that they each had it all figured out. To me, the person they presented to the world was one they had consciously decided to become.
In the approach to adulthood, I remember there being so much talk about how new experiences would shape me and that these would bring me closer to knowing who I wanted to be.
And I’m not saying new experiences don’t shape you.
An argument with an angry chef during a shift at the restaurant where I got my first job taught me that I am stronger than I think and not to be underestimated.
The thing is, experiences never stop shaping us. So, I recently decided to let go of the idea of finding myself once and for all.
I look back now at the person I thought I was when I left university and realise she had no idea who she was becoming.
I’m in my thirites now and I’m still learning new things about myself every day. I’m still being shaped by experiences in ways I could never have predicted.
We evolve because life is constantly changing – and we change with it.
Sometimes, the hardest part about accepting change is that it unsettles our sense of self. It can threaten the version of you you’ve grown used to. There can be a quiet pressure to make the ‘new you’ fit neatly alongside the old one, as if your identity should remain consistent, even when life doesn’t. It can feel like you’re losing yourself. But maybe you’re not losing anything at all. Maybe you’re just evolving.
I’m beginning to understand that I am a messy mix of every version of myself that has ever existed. I’m also accepting there are many versions of me still to come.
Some days I love tea and books. Some days I want to drink coffee and binge Gossip Girl. Some days I feel light and hopeful and on others, I don’t. As humans, we’re walking contradictions and that’s okay. We don’t need to present ourselves consistently to the world.
And yet, we live in a world that often asks us to define who we are as simply as possible. On social media for example, we’re encouraged to complete a bio, fit into a box and to present a version of ourselves which can be easily understood by algorithms and followers alike.
Change can feel uncomfortable in that kind of world.
It can feel risky to change, especially if we also find ourselves worrying that the people around us might prefer an older version of us to the one we’re evolving into.
In my experience, that rarely holds true. The people who are meant for you don’t just accept your growth, but they grow with you.
Who we are as people is incredibly difficult to define. It’s okay to accept you might never figure it out.
The more I’ve tried to do so, the more I’ve realised that it’s much more important to tune into how you’re feeling and make decisions based on what feels right for you, right now…
If something brings you joy or a sense of calm, it’s worth paying attention to – whether or not it neatly aligns with who you thought you were supposed to be.
-
The Power in Understanding
There was a time I truly believed I could live with my anxiety without ever having to examine the cause. I thought I knew myself inside out. Or, at least, that I knew enough.
For a long time, I never really listened to what my body was trying to tell me. Deep breaths were few and far between and my jaw was never unclenched. I hated the uneasy feeling in my stomach, but, without pause, I’d get to work trying to overcome it. I was determined not to give in to the butterflies, regardless of the toll.
There were times I felt like my own brain was working against me, but instead of paying attention, I wanted to banish negative thoughts as soon as possible. Scary dreams and tired inner voices were brushed off as annoying reminders that I was in some way fragile or broken. I never stopped to sympathise with the parts of me that were trying to be heard.
Every day that I woke up feeling anxious, I felt like I’d failed. I’d fight on for a while and then, eventually it would become too much to handle. I’d burn out. On those days, I felt exasperated. I couldn’t understand how life could be full of so much happiness and yet I could still feel so much fear. Anxiety would feel relentless and the struggle, neverending.
Things began to change when I found the courage to dig deeper. After years of telling myself I could go it alone, I sought help and talked things through… I discovered that I had more reasons to be anxious than I had ever realised. Yes, at times it felt irrational, but my anxiety was a symptom of having been strong for too long and not a sign of weakness. I had been shaped by things I’d experienced and I was carrying those things with me into adulthood.
Realising that changed everything. Nowadays, the butterflies don’t make me feel angry, tired or exasperated in the way they once did. Because I finally realise that I’ve been strong long enough and I deserve some grace.
I realise now that my brain isn’t out to get me. Negative thoughts are a defence mechanism. Butterflies signal to me that I need to slow down, to rest and to pay attention.
Not only do I now accept that my anxiety will always be along for the ride, but I’m willing to make allowances for it.
Meeting my butterflies with kindness brings me more peace than trying to banish them ever did.
So, I used to think that healing meant finally waking up fearless.
Now, I believe it looks like learning to move forward through life, butterflies and all. Not waiting to feel calm before living. Not feeling like a failure for finding life tough.
Most of all, knowing a good day can exist whilst anxiety is present, so long as you go gently.
-
What Living Gently Means to Me
When I say I live gently, I don’t mean I’m regularly going to the spa or cancelling plans or that I’ve perfected my skin care routine.
I know all too well how easy it can be to fall into the trap of giving life your all or nothing – turning up to work as your best self, or not turning up at all. And how easy it is to tell yourself you can push through without paying any mind to your mental health, just so long as you get one hour to chill in the bath eventually.
Yes, taking a mental health day is one way to protect and take care of yourself. And face masks and bubble baths help too. But finding space in every day to check in, be present and take care? I have found that’s more impactful than any hot bath could ever be.
To me, living gently can mean taking one deep breath of fresh air when no-one is watching.
It’s the choice to play your favourite music loudly through earphones on the train and then, a few seconds later, turn the music off and put the earphones away, because it turns out quiet is what you need instead.
It means paying attention to the taste of the last bite of pizza, even if that means missing the end of a conversation.
Taking the long route home and noticing how blue the sky looks or how your footsteps sound on the path.
It’s the quiet acceptance that anxiety is along for the ride and a willingness to find seconds here and there to pause and check in with yourself. Because when you empower yourself to do so, even the most daunting plans can feel doable.
Living gently allows me to live a life that’s full of joy, even with butterflies in tow. It stops me from feeling exhausted or overwhelmed. It allows me to make regular space for my inner nervous Nellie, put her at ease and let her know I’ve always got her back.
Living with anxiety isn’t easy and accepting the need to go gently can be even harder, but nowadays I know that giving myself a little grace here and there doesn’t hold me back from living life fully. In fact, it’s what keeps me moving forward.
Twenty Twenty-Five
Blogging Goodbye to Butterflies 