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There are few things a younger version of me would have correctly predicted would take shape in my life as it currently unfolds. By 32 I’d be working my way up in a stable 9-5 I secretly resented, driving home to my husband and kids in our perfectly groomed cozy 3-bedroom home in a quiet suburban neighbourhood. Cliche and derivative but still… I had a plan and by no means did it involve being divorced, childless and alone being serenaded every night by the symphony of sounds my dog makes when she sleeps while I recite lines from Sex and The City and my frozen pizza cooks in the oven. It would be an understatement to say that this was not what I had planned for my life entering into my 30’s but still if I could sit doe eyed 10 year old me down today, I’d explain that while this wasn’t what we thought our life would look like, while it’s by no means where we want to end up for good, it is also not a failure – more so a redirection, one we are very onboard with. I’d walk her through how we are learning that while timing isn’t always what we expect it to be, it truly is everything.

I’d explain that with the gift of time, our chocolate milks have been upgraded to espresso martinis, that while our apartment isn’t filled with the pitter patter of little human feet, there are 4 paws that still give us purpose and make it feel like home - and while we were once afraid of dogs, we couldn’t imagine our life without her. It might make her uneasy to hear she works for herself, riding the waves of uncertainty was never my strong suit even as child, but she also wouldn’t believe that our job takes us to award shows, helicoptered to the side of mountains, to the coolest places to meet the sweetest people all because there’s an audience who resonates with our story and life and how we share it. That there’s growth and success in our job because of how we’ve shown up for ourself, a skill we’ve mastered in our professional life through the gift of losing the stable secure 9-5 we once coveted.

The little lover girl who always dreamt of a happily ever after would question our singledom and whether we were headed for spinsterhood at our big age, and I’d explain that while we thought our 30’s were the beginning of the end, they’re actually an opportunity to consolidate your lessons, align with what you truly want and truly lean into the confidence you’ve built so far to start a new decade as authentically as possible. I’d go on to explain that while we are navigating this season alone, we have friends and family who love and prioritize us in the midst of our chaos, even when they have their own burdens to bare and in many ways it’s shown us how unconditional love can show up in more ways than just romantic love. That we take those lessons in love with us as we move forward and try to be better with every new opportunity. To be grateful and make the most of when they are given to us, rather than expect perfection from the timing of every interaction we make. Every season alone feels like it will last forever, it never does. We’ll be okay.

She’d sit there in disbelief of the contentment we have with the life we are living but I’d explain that the most important truth in all this is that the picturesque life we once thought we wanted is not only no longer unattainable but truly undesirable to us as we grew up. We changed our mind, and that’s okay because as we pick and choose what’s actually wanted in our life as we go along things slowly come to be whether they come to fruition when we expect them to or not.

And of course I wouldn’t lie to her, I’d tell her that as an adult we do have moments of doubt and discomfort in our timeline because it wasn’t what we had expected. I’m constantly having to remind myself that while this wasn’t what I had predicted for my life, it doesn’t mean I’m on the wrong path, or that I cannot forge new ones without guilt or shame of what that may look like. Because while you can’t curate your life with everything you dreamed of right away, you can trust it’s timing.

I may not have all the answers or be where I want to be just ye

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t, I might not have everything I wanted at this point in my life, but I have things I wanted 2 years ago and while that list changes with the ebbs and flows of my life the power and ability to stay grateful and present for those changes, to see them as gifts and not misfortunes, is something to be proud of if they’re pushing me forward. Most importantly the timer for my frozen pizza just went off and just like that I have everything I wanted 20 minutes ago.

Last week I reluctantly canceled an event for work and while i’d usually lean into my JOMO (joy of missing out) frame of mind, tuck into my couch with my 120 lb dog, my favourite comfort show and a new crochet project, this felt different. I’ve realized that when it comes to work, when it comes to putting myself first and letting people down even through an illness, when it comes to letting people down in general that joy is replaced with an onslaught of guilt.

I get migraines and even breathing hurt on this particular day but my instinct wasn’t to cancel it was “how am I going to bare this?” Eventually I made the right choice to pull out of going and I’d love to say I felt better about prioritizing my health but I don’t. As women we’re taught to keep going.

To push through it.

To spread ourselves thin because we can’t break.

We’re too strong.

We can do it all.

And maybe we can but we shouldn’t have to at the expense of ourselves.

Im still trying to figure out where to put those feelings of inadequacy and shame for not feeling capable enough, but the truth is sometimes we just need to feel our way through them. Practise acknowledging that the regret of not doing something and those feelings of respite can co-exist and that eventually we’ll find a way to bathe in the relief of not enduring rather than drown in the guilt of what others expect of us.

There’s an art to not doing it all and I’m hoping I master it sooner rather than later because while there’s a weight that comes with successfully doing it all, the guilt of not doing it is just as heavy.

✨follow along here friends!✨

Ingredients:

For the soup:

-1 onion

-half a butternut squash

-1 tomato

-2 small carrots

-onion powder

-garlic powder

-thyme

-salt & pepper

-chicken or vegetable broth

-1 tablespoon brown sugar

For the mushrooms:

-1 pack of cremini mushrooms

-3 tablespoons spoons balsamic vinegar

-1 tablespoon olive oil

-onion powder

-salt and pepper

-thyme

For the soup:

Start by cutting all your veggies into 1-2 inch chunks. These will be blending down so it doesn’t matter what they look like.

Sautée the onions in a bit of olive oil until translucent then add your butternut squash and carrots. Season with salt, pepper, thyme, onion powder and garlic powder. I eyeball these but its about 1 teaspoon each. Cook down for 5 minutes then add your broth, enough to cover the veggies. You can add water to top up. Add tomatoes and cook down for another 5 minutes before adding your brown sugar. Stir and cover to cook. Once the squash and carrots are fork tender take off the heat to cool before blending with an immersion blender. If the soup is too thick add water till it’s the consistency you like and put back on the stove to heat it up again.

For the mushrooms:

Chop mushrooms in half and marinate olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper, onion powder and thyme for 10 minutes. Add tomatoes and air fryer at 375 degrees for 13 minutes or until brown.

-1 teaspoon butter

- 1 chopped apple (i used ambrosia)

-2 teaspoons cinnamon

-pinch of salt

-splash of water

-1 teaspoon sugar free maple syrup (i used steeves)

-1 teaspoon sugar free caramel syrup

-1 teaspoon vanilla

-2 tablespoons melted dark chocolate

-1 graham cracker

-coconut whip

Steps:

Chop apple and add to pan with butter, cinnamon and salt. After 5 minutes add a splash of water and cook down for another 5 minutes. Add sugar free syrup, sugar free caramel syrup and vanilla. Cook down until softened and liquid is a bit thicker.

Melt dark chocolate in a separate bowl.

Add apples to bottom of bowl. drizzle chocolate on top then crumble graham cracker on top. (Optional) top with coconut whip.

I understand that this isn’t my usual written content on here but these are so good I had to share them. I attempted to buy these and they instantly made my stomach hurt and were incredibly expensive. It felt like a painful and unnecessary journey to take for a sweet treat so I attempted to make these low sugar protein peanut butter cups myself. To say I was successful would be an understatement. I have not stopped making these. Enjoy friends!

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Ingredients:

(You’ll need a mini muffin pan for this)

-1/2 cup dark chocolate chips

-3/4 peanut butter

-1 teaspoon vanilla

-1/2 teaspoon Torani sugar free caramel syrup

-1 scoop Good Protein peanut butter flavour protein powder (or any peanut butter protein powder)

-coconut milk (can also use regular milk or water)

Wipe mini muffin pan with butter to help cups lift out easier.

Put chocolate chips in a separate bowl and into the microwave. Melt in 15 second increments until fully melted. Using 1/2 the melted chocolate, put a dollop of the melted chocolate into each section of the mini muffin tin - fully coating it creating a “base cup”. Put in freezer for 10 minutes or until completely frozen.

While its freezing. In a separate bowl add peanut butter, vanilla and caramel syrup and stir until combined. Stir in protein powder slowly combining as you go or it will be hard to combine. Mix as much as you can then stir in a couple teaspoons of coconut milk as needed to help soften it. The mix should be a wet, thick almost dough like consistency.

Take mini muffin tin out of freezer and add a table spoon of peanut butter mixture to each tin. Cover in remaining dark chocolate and put back in the freezer till tops are frozen.

Use a butter knife along the sides of the cup to pop them out. They should come out in one pop without having to sig around the sides.

Enjoy!

For centuries women have been pairing jeans with a cute top as their go to outfits for a night out, I’ve certainly done it countless times before but something about this look suddenly felt off. I soon realized it wasn’t the tone of the jeans or the showy click of my heel that made me uncomfortable, it was the looming shame of my age that did not pair well with this outfit. That it was too tight, too revealing – too much for this stage of my life. It was as if once the clock struck 12 on birthdays in my thirties clothing that once felt cool, freeing and fun now felt restrictive and unsuited as the magic and sparkle was lost. But that’s just how it felt. The truth is that the clothing that is meant for you is the clothing you feel good in no matter how many candles you’ve blown out or greys you may be growing. That’s not what we’re taught though. If it were up to certain people, women aging gracefully would mean turning in their colourful clothing and their low cut anything as they get older. But as misguided as we were, and as hard as they try, we won’t be doing that.

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By now I thought I’d be dressing like Meredith Blake with her polished high neck dresses and chic hats, she was a mere child of 26 so her portrayal seems grossly misrepresented now that I’ve cleared that milestone. I thought there’d be a fine for wearing baggy pants and that I wouldn’t care about crop tops. Just stylish collars, buttons and silk, I thought there’d be so much more silk in my ever-evolving style as I got older for some reason. It’s clear to me now that in order for me to feel confident in my clothing as I age, I don’t need to drop certain pieces from my wardrobe, just phrases like “age appropriate” from my vocabulary. With time my style has evolved, and I’ve found that I’m not shying away from things the way I thought I would have to in order to be taken seriously. Instead, I’m leaning into them more. I have more confidence in clothing and I’m no longer rushing to wear certain things before “my time is up”. If it’s something the chemistry in my brain favours 10 years from now, then I’ll continue to wear it, if not then, well, it was nice while it lasted, I guess I’m a different person now. I’ll take pride in the fact that it won’t be because some weirdo missing their glory days or some aunty who never got one commented on the inappropriate relationship between my age and what I’m wearing - because there isn’t one. While I enjoy taking more risks with what I wear, I also have no problem with saying no to something that I feel is no longer meant for me and there’s power in that choice.

Style is expressive and more of a feeling, as is your age. While for some clothing is just a uniform or a means to get through the day, fashion, and the way we present ourselves, is also an opportunity to be creative and have fun. The older you get, the more autonomy you have over your life and that should come with the freedom to deliberately and unabashedly wear the things that make you feel good. Designing a wardrobe based on age and the opinions of others is not only a poor use of that free will but also a bit boring. If modifying your clothing is something you feel is necessary for yourself then by all means that is the right choice. But the second we allow the outdated beliefs of what women of any age should look like, if we grant permission for the opinions of others to dictate how we present ourselves is that moment we limit ourselves for the gaze of others – and that’s no way to live.

It's inevitable that as we age and our likes and dislikes ebb and flow, our style will too. But more time spent in this body does not mean curating a wardrobe to hide its journey. Greying hair does not need to be hidden and while our skin may sag with time, showing any less of it isn’t the answer. Why the world feels like certain phases of our lives need to be presented a certain way, that our aesthetic needs to be tied to our age is beyond me. Older does not equal more restrictive or toned down, it can mean whatever you need it to. The beauty of getting older is that with every year that passes, the less fucks I give about what I wear, how I wear it and what other people think about it. There’s a joy I feel in knowing that one day I can drown in my favourite pair of baggy overalls at my boyfriend’s baseball game only to have my legs confined to the waddle of a tight pencil skirt while I walk to dinner with girlfriends the next day. Much like your age, your style is not something you can explain but that’s probably because it’s meant to be enjoyed – by you… in whatever way you want.

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I’ve said the thing you’re not supposed to say out loud as a woman, the thing they’ll make you feel like less of a woman for. The thing you’re supposed to feel a deep yearning for, I just don’t…anymore at least. It seems like I’ve spent most of my life romanticizing the idea of being pregnant and motherhood as a whole. I played “mommy” with my dolls, I smiled at babies in grocery stores, anxiously awaiting my turn, but with time, and some honest exposure to what it truly meant to carry the weight of motherhood, it all went away. Not because I suddenly hated children or pitied mothers, but because I realized I had a choice, and my outlook on life and the way I wanted to live mine changed as I got older and the more I was exposed to motherhood beyond Meryl Streep movies and the brief pause in public to muse at a child with fuzzy ears on the hood of its sweater. I saw births, pregnancies and the sacrifices of motherhood firsthand courtesy of all the women in my life who gave me perfect nieces and nephews, and after gathering all the information I made an informed decision and chose to step back with all I that learned and say, “well that’s not for me…and that’s okay too”. Because while it felt like a likely progression as a woman, it is so much more than a feeling, it’s a full-time job, and like any job it’s one you can choose to apply for…or not. Unlike other jobs, it’s not one you can freely walk away from should you decide it’s not what you thought it would be. With that in mind, I wanted to be sure I had all the information before bringing another human being, who would mostly depend on me for much of its life, into this world. Especially because as a child I understood the sense of shame and confusion that comes hand in hand with being left behind by a parent unwilling to fulfill that role, and I wouldn’t wish it on anybody.

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Now it’s not lost on me as to why I went from wanting children to celebrating my period every month. As women we’re conditioned to prep for motherhood as the natural next step, as opposed to questioning it or viewing it as an option. Think about it, were you ever actually asked if it was something that you wanted? The assumption is aimed at us from the moment “it’s a girl” is echoed from the delivery room and it makes it our default to not question it. Looking back at that societal pressure now, there’s an uneasiness I’ve felt, examining how the message of motherhood was pushed on us through our surroundings. Think of the happy endings in the stories we grew up with (i.e. The Little Mermaid), and in the more traditional gender roles we saw fulfilled around us (most likely in the mothers and maternal figures around us). As an adult with more insight, I see the missing pieces. This image of motherhood was often idealized, leaving out crucial components of what it means to take on this role, and the emotional, physical and financial challenges mothers endure. Don’t get me wrong, it is a fulfilling, rewarding and a deeply transformative experience, but it’s also hard, and in life we get to choose our hard. Don’t assume that your place in the world and the trajectory of your life needs to be compliant in what the world expects of you. An argument can be made for what having children out of conformity and societal pressure can do to someone and the toll it would take on a child and family. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that if life is pulling you in a direction that may feel unfamiliar but still right, it’s okay to lean into it even if it sparks misunderstanding from those around you. If it makes you happy it doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else.

In contrast, my earliest memories of child free female characters came in the form of witches and/or villains. The sisters from Hocus Pocus, Cruella de Vil and the witch from Hansel and Gretal serve as visual representations and a dramatized cautionary tale of how the world may see you should you choose not to give into that pressure. So yes, I was afraid to explore the thought of not having children, because I didn’t want to be seen as cruel, unlovable or selfish. I lived in fear of any criticisms, judgment and what it said about me should I not lean into my maternal instincts. Maternal instincts that, while I don’t want children, I seem to have had ingrained in me from my first day on earth. Until the people around me started having children those instincts were mainly used on drunk friends to keep them safe from excessive Jagger bomb intake and getting puke in their hair after a night out. Between my natural ability to take care of people and the haze of “you’re meant to have children” propaganda I felt surrounding by as I neared my 30’s, it was all pretty confusing. It’s easy to feel reeled into the idea, I thought as women, that’s just what we do. We get married and have children. Outdated views will try to make us believe that not choosing that life means your doing something wrong, that you hate children or (what I feared most) that I you’re less of a woman.

But your womanhood is not defined by the act of childbearing or child rearing. It is not all we were put on this earth to do. Womanhood is multifaceted and is made up of the diverse experiences of women. It is not one thing, and neither are you. With or without children your life will not be defined by a solidary act or role you took on. I reject the idea that prioritizing myself, my career and my freedom makes me less of anything. Embracing a life built around the roles I actually want to take on, that have not been forced upon me, make me the biggest, brightest version of myself, not the other way around. So no, you are not less of anything because you’re not a mom. Because your body hasn’t been changed in that way or your life isn’t a certain kind of busy. Because you chose a different path, one that you’re not shaming anyone else for but that you just don’t want for yourself. When someone brings a dog home, but you don’t, we don’t get shamed for it. We accept that different lifestyles and levels of responsibilities appeal to different people, and we move on without passing judgement. Women deserve the same discretion. Though motherhood is often presented as a rite of passage within womanhood, that does not mean it has to be right for you, and I hope you can accept that without shame. The truth is we all have the ability to build our lives as we see fit and if that life is not filled with children that are your own, it just means you chose to use your free will differently. Undoubtedly there are those that will be upset, but that’s probably a good time to remind them that they are not being attacked by the choices of other people. Respectfully, my choice to not have children has nothing to do with you.

I’m warning you now, if this is a decision you are coming to terms with, people will have an opinion. My favourite one’s levy on the side of “you’re going to regret this”, okay little miss all knowing God, can I get some lottery numbers next? It’s impossible to know who you’re going to be or what your needs will be 1 year or even 10 years from now. The idea that you may not be happy with this choice in the long run is just that, an idea. A prophecy created to instill fear and is rooted in control. But I’d rather regret not having kids than bring a child into this world and feel remorse for a decision I made that I now can’t take back. I’d rather look back 50 years from now and be grateful that there isn’t a child on this earth who feels guilty for their existence or feels unwanted even for a moment. Hearing that being a mother is to know the ultimate form of love and that I’ll never know that is laughable and to be honest a bit offensive. Can I not know love from other people in my life? Does the love I feel from my remaining relationships mean nothing? Minimizing what other people value because it’s not a choice you’d make for yourself doesn’t make you better, it just makes you a judgemental asshole.

Another general wonderment that people seem to be all too worried about is who’s going to take care of me when I’m older. Well obviously, my dog, she’s promised me she’s going to live forever. Look, there’s no way to guarantee how someone will turn out, where they will be, or if they will be willing or capable of taking care of you when you’re older. I’m currently witnessing someone at the end of their life with four children. Two are incapable of helping and one of the other two has stepped up. It’s a crapshoot. Asking someone who’s going to take care of them feels odd cause well, you can. Your partner can. Professionals can and you can set your life up in any way in order to be taken care of for your own future. You can and should plan for the end of your life because after seeing it firsthand, I don’t think people realize what a costly burden it can be if you neglect to plan and it is forced upon other people. Children are your responsibility not the other way around. The help and sacrifice they make for us, like any family member in the long run, shouldn’t take over their lives. You can appreciate the help from your village, but don’t expect it.

The village is something I am all too familiar with. I’ve been bouncing babies off my hip while mom’s finish their meals and contributing to playtime for as long as I can remember. I’ve cut umbilical cords and been there for melt downs. There for feedings, readings and all the snuggles. Still, it is only a fraction of the work the mothers I love do and it makes me appreciate their roles so much more. It’s also what made me realize that that is where my capacity for childrearing ends. Still, I’d be lying if I said that their constant presence in my life doesn’t bring that gentle sense of curiosity back. Questions like “what if this were me” “what would mine look like” “I’d love that for my child” poke their head out from time to time. They’re most present when my oldest niece texts me in need of help with her resume or family drama she’ll know I’ll have her back on. Or the familiar tug at my heart strings when I hear my best friend’s daughter scream “bintaaaa” as I climb the stairs of their townhouse. It’s natural to wonder, especially with my proclivity for asking the what if questions. Apparently, it’s some sort of anxiety related fixation, but that’s a conversation for my therapist. I have wondered and daydreamed and still come to the conclusion that I’m very content in my role contributing to the collective effort it takes to raise happy healthy babies. I adore being an aunty and a member of their support system. So no, this isn’t about not liking children, it’s about choice. I’ve been given the privilege of choosing what roles I play in my life, and I don’t plan on taking it for granted. While motherhood may not be your journey, being welcomed into and a trusted part of someone else’s village is truly special.

Most importantly, I understand that no matter what children will always be a part of my life and exist in the world around me whether or not I choose to have them. People often forget that while you are entitled to a childfree life you are not entitled to a child free world. The grace and understanding we look for in our own journeys can and should be extended to others on a different path. A baby crying on an airplane might be your free birth control but it’s still someone’s child trying to exist in the world. Just like you they deserve to be a part of it so try not to be a cunt.

This all sounds so easy, but the honest truth is that it took me years to come to this decision and many many questions needed to be answered. If you are still floating in the in between and are still as unsure as I was these are some great ones that helped me through it:

-Are you ready for your relationship with your mind body and desire for intimacy to change?

-What kind of support system do you have or need? Your needs are important too, do you have people that can help you with emotional support, childcare or anything else?

-Would having children impact your current lifestyle, career, and relationships?

-Do you have the financial means to support children?

-Can you challenge your biases and preconceived notions about parenting and children?

Google and creators like Liz moody were great resources for this by the way. No one wakes up knowing what the right questions to ask will be.

While it’s okay to be afraid to speak up on such a polarizing topic, I hope we learn to accept that two things can exist and be true. There are joys and benefits to having children and joys and benefits to not having children and no one deserves to be shamed for their choices. A little empathy goes a long way in not making someone feel mom shamed or, in contrast, like they’ve just been cast in Hocus Pocus. There are no wrong answers here but having all the information and knowing that it is in fact a choice you can make for yourself is important. For the longest time I never thought to question what I was taught or what I saw, motherhood appealed to me because of how it was presented, and I blindly trusted that I was being steered in the right direction for my life. Turns out I wanted something different, and I learned that questioning the norm is not a betrayal it’s a responsibility. Just know that if your path is leading you towards not having children, if your headstone is missing the mother monicker and your home is filled with the pitter patter of little paws as opposed to feet, your life will be just as beautiful and fulfilling. You are not broken or misguided, you were just misled.

Personally, I hope mine reads: favourite daughter, thoughtful friend and espresso martini connoisseur.

I recently signed with a new agency, that’s right, I’m an influencer and a closeted writer - and you thought we lacked depth. But I’ve made bigger moves before. At 31 I’ve ended long term friendships, completed the startling career evolution from Human Resources Professional to sharing my life and outfits on the internet. There was even a brief moment in time when I was married. Like my divorce this ending came with no drama or cause, which if I’m being honest, made the familiar pangs of guilt a lot easier to cope with. A heartbreaking understanding I’ve been unwillingly educated in along the way is that there are times when you’d wish someone would do something wrong, break the rules or your heart, to make the leaving easier. But the truth is sometimes it’s just not right, and that’s enough to leave, even if it’s with the shame of having to admit you’ve walked through the wrong door. So that’s just what I did…again, and just like the ending of my marriage the decision came with a moment of hesitancy prior to its execution. A familiar reluctance fuelled by a preemptive fear and the wondering of what could possibly go wrong if I once again stepped outside of what was comfortable.

That’s the thing about big changes, they come with a promise for something greener, but they also go hand in hand with uncertainty. Forsaking a steady stream of income and established relationships for a transitional period and starting over yet again in my career, was a gamble that came with a lot of questions, ones I didn’t have the answers to.

What if I stop making money?

What if it doesn’t work out the way I thought it would?

What if no one understands?

What if …

If you’ve heard of the “what if” theory it’s probably because you too have experienced the joy the accompanies that anxiety ridden line of questioning in an attempt develop your own coping mechanisms. It’s not fun but most importantly, those negative thoughts are usually quite deceptive. Over the course of my life, I can assure you the fears they are based on have very rarely come true. I wasn’t too old to change my major and I didn’t end up alone because I got divorced. The realization that nothing truly bad can come from trying, unlocks a sense of freedom and confidence I had no idea was waiting for me on the other side of that attempt, even if I failed. Of course there are exceptions to this. Bad things might happen if you jump out of a plane, or eat tide pods, and apparently Coldplay concerts are no longer a safe zone? The point is there’s always a moment of hesitancy when you’re moving on from what’s familiar and comfortable. But doing the scary thing rather than continuing to sit in the fear is so much more rewarding.

As a child who couldn’t make it past level 4 swimming, I’m sure it shocks no one to hear that I have a fear of deep waters. I never trusted what lay beyond the safety of the shoreline and passed the shadowy depths where my feet no longer felt the comfort and support of the pillowy sand. Maybe it’s because it’s impossible to control large bodies of water or know what’s going on beneath them. Maybe it’s because my jackass cousins used to play tug of war with my feet under the water when we were kids. Who’s to say? The irony is that the country girl in me has always felt called to the water and calmer near it… I said near it not in it. I’ve always refused to go beyond where the water met my chest or venture onto any tiny vessel in an attempt to explore it. But as I neared my 30th birthday a couple years ago, all I wanted was to be at a cottage, fishing and hanging out by the water that I hoped would calm my nervous system down shortly after I left my marriage and subsequently upended my entire life. I was left more uneasy when I witnessed my friends and family boarding tiny kayaks and making their way around the canal and into a larger body of water. A body of water so big that small islands took shape in the centre while still leaving room for boats to go by. I questioned getting in one. I thought about it long and hard; I even said no a few times. But seeing the joy on their faces, a joy that I too had come here for, made me feel like I was missing out and, on my birthday, no less. So, I got in the kayak…and I live to tell the tale. As time went on my confidence grew and while everyone got tired and went back inside, I decided to stay on the water alone. I had been eyeing the tiny island that was about a 15-minute kayak away. It was further than I had gone, and the water was much deeper. Despite my hesitation I decided to go for it and make my way around the entire thing.

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As my paddle made its final graze into the dark waters and shifted my kayak to the other side of the island I paused for a moment to welcome my newfound sense of pride in conquering this fear and in my ability to do new things, even if those things were once terrifying. I sat and reflected on the last year of my life and how this was certainly not how I expected to enter into this new decade. I sat there long enough to watch the setting sun illuminate one half of the leaves of the three trees that graced the tiny floating plot of land. This island was alone and slightly dreary, but it was also kind of beautiful. A little worse for wear, but still standing on her own, she’d clearly seen some things and I immediately felt a sense of kinship with her. I feared large bodies of water and being alone my entire life and there I was amongst the tiny island, alone on a giant body of water both in that moment and in my relationship status… and I was more than okay with it. By getting on the kayak, by saying yes and embracing curiosity over fear, I not only discovered what I was capable of, but gained new perspective and…a new tattoo idea. Not a bad birthday if you ask me, and I’ve had some bad birthdays.

To top it all off I’ve somehow convinced myself to lean into the dread and terror of having these thoughts out in the world and am now writing about it all. Before the all-consuming presence of social media and before I was unceremoniously bullied away from it, writing was my go-to outlet. As a child I loved writing stories and poems, I even re wrote the lyrics to songs I loved. I buried my joy and aptitude for it after showing my work to “friends” who taunted my words and left me embarrassed and alienated for embracing something I loved.

Now, I’m sure at that age I was no Sylvia Plath, but what I realize now is that the pause I forced upon myself and my work because I was apprehensive of what other people would think, was actually worse than those opinions themselves. It wasn’t their lives I was hindering; it was my own. It wasn’t their joy I was taking away it was my own. To my dismay all these years later I realize that hiding really did nothing for me other than give me a false sense of safety. Pausing out of fear may keep you sheltered, but it’ll also hold you back. It held my progress back. I could’ve been so much better at this by now and I’m kicking myself for it.

So, while I learn not to flee when things get hard, one thing I will be committing to is discomfort. To the uneasiness of guiding my life towards the unknown rather than being struck down and caged in by fear. It may not always feel great and is easier said than done, but I would rather take the risk and fail than not try and never know.

Trying new things is scary. Whether it’s starting a new job, dating for the first time in a decade or journaling your thoughts and opinions down on the internet for strangers to digest and scrutinize. But fear is natural, it means you care about what comes next and by following through, at least you can say you tried rather than wonder forever. Those attempts are where confidence is built even if you fail so use those opportunities to grow.

Failure is inevitable in anyone’s journey. Googling the career trajectory of any celebrity will tell you that. But it will also show you that there is no reward without risk. Attachment and comfort do not define us, nor do our successes or failures. What we’ll be defined by, what makes us who we are, are the stories behind these moments and how we chose to react. That’s where character and personal growth live.

Trying is hard but so is never truly knowing what’s on the other side of that fear, and I hope you’re brave enough venture out to find out what may be waiting for you.

Make the big career move. Board the kayak. Get divorced.

You’ll be scared.

Do it anyway.

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