But my raised brow replied that I wasn’t entirely convinced

13-year-old Lindsey was bullied quite badly at school and she was still overly cautious about people trying to make fun of her.

It wasn’t just my teenage scars that were starting to itch. From the moment he started talking to me I was questioning most of the things coming out of his mouth.

Even his conversation starter was strange. “Do you sing?” he had asked in French.

I thought my translation must have been off.

“Do I sing?” I repeated back in English.

It was just after nine in the evening and I had taken myself to the Seine to do a bit of business planning. Because when you live in Paris – I mean why the f*ck not?! It doesn’t even get dark until around ten at this time of year. And as much as I love my tiny 22 metre square apartment – it does get kinda claustrophobic.

He confirmed I heard correctly.

But despite my small translation win, he quickly reverted to English. He said there was karaoke happening just down the river and from the interesting noises I was now focusing on, he was right.

“Je ne chante pas.” I stated. “Jamais!” (In case you need the translation - I definitely do not sing!)

We small talked for a while. Me sitting. Him standing.

I was straining to look up and after a few minutes he politely asked if he could take a seat next to me. Mainly for my neck’s sake, I said yes.

He was French. Parisian. Born and bred. I couldn’t quite age him. I would say he was in his early 40s or maybe life had been tiring and he was slightly younger than me. I couldn’t decide if I liked him or not. I laughed internally because he was actually totally my type. Or at least my old one.

The creative.

You know, the one that looks like they need to be washed. Longish floppy hair and scuffed boots and with minimal fucks given about what they put on that morning or how clean it was.

He was in fact a musician. He played the guitar in a band. I asked which guitar. Not that I shared this part with him of course but because I used to date a bass player in the French alps in my early twenties. See… I told you I had a type.

His English was very good. But then he said his day job was in translation so it quickly made more sense. His musical passions were what kept him entertained at night instead.

I noticed a video game through the see through plastic bag he was carrying and I asked who it was for – his nephew apparently. Again. I was doubting if that were true.

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I then told him about myself. About my new travel business and why I was in Paris.

He asked if it involved sex.

Again, I thought it was a translation issue because… was he trying to infer I was setting myself up as a pimp for solo travelling women?!

He said his American female friend had come up with the hypothetical idea and said it was a gap in the market. I half-jokingly agreed and said she’s probably on to something. Hooking women up with handsome escorts instead of having to navigate the risk and headache of dating apps when travelling. “Thanks… but I think I’ll stick with my plan to connect platonically with women!”

His questions were consistently direct. Was I single. “Oui. Je suis célibataire.” I answered. (That means single by the way but how long does it have to be until you have to start calling yourself celibate? Asking for a friend here of course!)

What was my ‘type’? I can’t remember the word he actually used but I introduced him to this English phrase if he needed to use it again in the future.

As someone who has previously dated autistic men, I was sensing the familiarity of not thinking too much about what came out of his mouth. Or maybe he was just being European. Us Brits are so fucking exhausting with our politeness and never actually saying wtf we want to!

Anyway. I sensed where this conversation was going and I wasn’t 100% sure I wanted to follow it.

There was a part of me that was enjoying the attention. I can’t actually remember the last time I was in any kind of scenario to get hit on.

Another part of me was judging myself for wanting to be wanted and then again for even entertaining a conversation with someone I was so ambivalent about.

All whilst my traumatised teenager continued to distrust the genuineness of his intentions.

And finally, the fact I’m female. Because this innocent chit chat with a male stranger is still a dangerous situation to put yourself in.

It’s funny because he asked if I was judgmental when I commented on the ‘interesting’ voices trying to sing Amy Winehouse’s back to black very badly. I answered honestly and said yes, “I think I can be sometimes”. But I begin to realise how I still probably judge myself the most.

Oh! And not forgetting that external voice. The one telling me I was in Paris and that I was single so I therefore ‘should’ be embracing sh*t like this. Wasn’t this the whole point? To put myself in situations where I’m ‘living’ and experiencing to the fullest?!

And here I was - sat by the Seine at sunset and being chatted up by an attractive Parisian. I mean I think he is. I don’t think I’ve quite decided yet. But he did have a great accent, which I’ve always been a sucker for. Come to think of it, maybe my bass player being Irish helped our relationship along the way in the mountains 10+ years ago too.

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“I can read fortunes.” he said. “Let me read yours.”

Bullshit my body responded. My face and words didn’t say that of course. Being the ‘good girl’ and neurodivergent that I am, I know how to mask and look as polite as possible.

I think it was largely out of politeness that I then gave him my right hand. With maybe a dash of curiosity as to what might happen next.

My career line was prosperous apparently. I asked if that meant it was successful or just busy? But that’s as far as he committed. Confessing to the fact that it was… all bullshit. As suspected. Not quite in those English words of course but how he’d just wanted to hold my hand.

13 year old Lindsey flinched again because she’d exposed herself to the joke. Too worried about being the problem or causing a scene over following her senses and protecting herself. The 39 year old reminded her that it wasn’t the same thing. That this guy was just trying his luck and how I should probably just be flattered.

This is going to sound bizarre as heck but then he just started to stroke my hand. Very gently. Before moving his fingers further up the inside of my wrist and then my arm. Asking if that was OK. If I liked it.

And I had to admit that I did. I haven’t been touched like that in way over a year. But I shouldn’t encourage him, right? He was a man after all and what did this obligate me to do afterwards? Why was I even entertaining something like this with a guy I barely knew and wasn’t sure I was even attracted to?

His fingers went to my shoulder. To the back of my neck.

We sat in silence for most of the time he did this whilst I traced my fingers on his trousered leg.

His touch on my hand was fine. Even on my neck for a while. But then I realised I wasn’t enjoying it all that much anymore. Too conscious of being in public and as you’ve become to realise…being far too much in my head about it all!

Being too cowardly to say I wanted him to stop, I simply removed his hand from my shoulder and put it back in my hand instead. He broke the silence by leaning in and asked if he could kiss me in French. I embarrassingly had to respond “Je ne comprends pas” because I’d forgotten the verb to kiss. “Bisous” to say goodbye of course but not the physical act of locking lips. It’s ‘embrasser’ btw and if you ever ned to use it or to be able to avoid one.

I was genuinely curious to try. But then there was shame about wanting to do this with someone I wasn’t even sure about. Also… we’d just been stroking each other for 10 minutes at this point so would it be weird if I declined?

I think we all know the technical difference when it comes to kissing ‘French style’ and for me… I’ve never been a fan! I can’t say that this guy was changing my mind about it and I quickly pulled back.

But. I still don’t bloody leave at this point!

A nearly 40-year-old woman who didn’t have the gumption to just get up and walk away. To STILL be more worried about making someone else uncomfortable. Because maybe it was a ‘me’ problem? Was I just being the weird ‘frigid” one. God those playground chants still taunting me after 26 f*ck*ng years long!

And when I DID get the guts to get up and say I was heading home, there was that awkward conversation of … “I’m going this way so…” and then he followed because that was where his train would take him back out to the suburbs. I even let him give me his number and I said “Oui, Bien sûr.” Of course I would absolutely call.

The speed of my walk across the road away from him made me realise I’d delete his number before I even made it home.

I was scared.

Not because I thought he was a dangerous guy but because I had totally abandoned myself.

To make someone else feel more comfortable.

Gaslighting myself to go at a pace that was far too fast.

Saying yes when my body and nervous system said no.

Yes, I wanted the intimacy. It’s what I crave somedays more than anything.

But by moving so quickly it had made me physically run right away from it.

I’ve talked about the lack of trust I had in this man for most of the night but… I think what frightened me more was how I couldn’t even trust myself.

With thanks to for hosting a reading event in Paris last weekend and inspiring this different style of post from me. Where writers were sharing their real time human experiences and I forgot how powerful sharing something so simple could be. How strongly an excerpt from everyday life could make others feel so seen.

To not have to justify or over explain yourself.

To just describe it exactly as it is and from your own human POV.

To let the reader take from it what they want and need or nothing at all if it doesn’t resonate.

‘The Other Way’ is for readers who are experiencing the world similarly to myself so I hope by sharing these more vulnerable moments from my own life, it will help you feel less alone walking your own unconventional path.

And we’ve only spent three hours together.

But the mutual connection between us has been almost instant.

The same nationality. The same delusional pull to Paris that doesn’t make sense on paper. We’re both on the same overwhelming entrepreneurial ‘adventure’ together. The same awakening towards our creativity. The same bravery to step off the corporate ladder and follow it. The immediate emotional intimacy between us and how safe we both feel to be our most vulnerable selves.

Oh…and they have a dog as well!

Carrying on from last week… maybe my romcom is already introducing it’s love interest.

Except for the fact.

It’s a woman.

My new friend in Paris.

She only moved here 2 months ago. So maybe we’re just jumping on the fact we’re both British and it’s natural to want to connect with people who look like, speak and mirror you. The word for this is ‘homophily’ apparently (and yes I did just have to google it!)

… the tendency to form strong social connections with people who share one’s defining characteristics, as age, gender, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, personal beliefs, etc…

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I don’t think this is entirely the case though.

As someone who’s been lucky enough to connect with other women in this way…it’s a familiar energy for me. And these relationships have always supported my bigger picture. Even though I had absolutely no idea at the time of meeting them and by doing things that never made any logical sense either.

• Like doing my Australian outback work for a visa I was unsure I even wanted back in 2014. But that’s where I met Raph. A French girl that joined me in ‘bum fuk’ nowhere WA. Two souls handpicked to be put on the tiniest of farms, 30 miles away from the nearest town for the same 6-week period. Who I still feel as close to today, even though she still lives in Oz and we only get to see each other every two years or so if we’re lucky. I never did use that second year visa but… I did meet her in Paris that following summer. The first trip that introduced me to a city I now call home.

• Like from Northern Ireland who sent me a DM on Substack after reading one of my ‘living with parents’ posts. A very unconventional life choice that has never been understood socially. But it’s something I’ve become widely known for online and a subject that’s always given me the most visibility (if I’ve wanted it or not!) And I still have a very uncomfortable niggle that I have unfinished business talking about it. In the 2 years we’ve known each other, we’ve only met IRL once. But our video calls twice a month still make it one of the most important friendships I have at the moment. (go check out her podcast ‘Muse Yourself’ btw!)

Gemma and I when I invited her on a city break to Paris with me.

• Or when I got brave and reached out to the wonderful Carly on Facebook because she posted in a local group how she was starting Julia Cameron’s - The Artist’s Way. A 12 - step programme to help you unleash your inner artist and stop falling for the excuses that keep it locked away. I was at crossroads in my life and this was another thing I was haplessly trying to flick at a wall to see if it would stick. And admittedly, like most people…the first time I tried it, I didn’t make it past chapter 4! But I started again in November 25 and I completed it and I’m not sure I’d be writing this from Paris without it. She moved away from me last year but our long-distance relationship is just as strong. She’s got the biggest heart, is one of my loudest cheerleaders and has a sensitivity to truly see me in a way that nobody has before.

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The haters might call it coincidence. Or that me and these women have simply been ‘trauma bonded’. And I can’t lie, working in the outback was simultaneously one of the worst but best experience of my life! Gemma and I were both navigating living with our parents in our 30s and the judgment that came with that. ‘The Artist’s Way’ being an escape route for two women who were feeling lost in a world that stopped making sense to them. Starting over in Paris and as you learnt last week… is also quite the headf*ck!

Maybe it’s all of it. Divine intervention. Luck. Just two humans connecting over a shared (and slightly triggering!) experience.

But whatever it is. This type of connection has ALWAYS led to good things and guided me in my future direction. Even though I have absolutely no idea where it’s taking me.

I’m not even making this up…whilst I was on Facebook looking for this picture from the Outback, I received a voicenote message from Raph! I was looking at her face and then her name popped right up! We haven’t spoken since 11th June and when I told her my visa news. I feel even more supported right now !

So what does this mean for me and my new Paris friend? The Mindy to my Emily so to speak. To be honest I’m just as curious as you are because as I’ve said, these things never make any immediate sense!

But the fact it’s my first week since moving here and I’ve already found a bestie. The EASE of it is also super encouraging. Maybe my Paris life really CAN be as easy as Emily made it look …I mean…let’s hope a beautiful Frenchman, Brit or Italian land at my feet just as effortlessly! (I THINK I’ve covered all her love interests?!)

Finding a connection like this again is the support and reminder that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Despite all my fears and the uncertainty this Paris chapter of my life is raising… I can trust it.

So for anyone who feels like their ‘other way’ journey is getting increasingly bumpier. Who is struggling to keep stepping forwards in case they fall off the path entirely… look back.

Do you have connections and relationships like this in your life? People who have turned up in nonsensical ways but have ended up supporting you to keep going when you’ve needed it most. Or where you can look back, connect the dots and realise the significance these meetings made?

Let them be your reminder to trust yourself and the feelings you feel when you meet these humans in your future too.

Intuition.

Gut instinct.

Whatever you want to call it.

Let these special connections give you the confidence to keep going.

After sharing my first day in Paris on socials on Thursday - the messages and love I received was wonderfully overwhelming. It made me realise just how many people were quietly watching me pursue my dream behind a screen. And maybe even inspired by my throwing of a huge f*cking hand grenade into my life. It’s why I think a lot of the women will even book ‘Paris with Lindsey’.

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I’m writing to you from Paris. From a cute little café near Bastille and surrounded by beautiful Haussmann buildings. Every time I look out the window of my studio apartment or hear the blare of the classic French sirens. I have to pinch myself.

I am a writer living in Paris.

I genuinely can’t believe this is my life now. Something I’ve been dreaming of for so long that I’ve lost count of the months and years.

So how can I say it’s NOT as romantic as hell?

Well much like any romantic relationship there’s the duality of it. The hard parts as well as the heart stopping.

Moving here was the easy part

I wrote all about my fear of moving here last week. About it not working out. Mainly towards my business and financial stability but I now realise it’s so much more than that. Moving here has been the easy part. Hell… even getting the visa seems fairly straight forwards looking back.

Because this is where the hard part actually starts.

It’s time to create a life for myself in Paris.

From scratch.

If I had to describe my state of mind over the past few days I would have to use the word ‘overwhelmed’. Because when I put it all down on paper – creating a life here comes with a pretty long to do list!

• Work / create financial stability - my time here is going to be short lived without it!

• Friends / social life - I only know one person here.

• Learn French - this isn’t negotiable.

• Explore Paris - not just for my business but to actually enjoy the city I’ve been dreaming about living in!

• Dating - at the bottom of my list but it’s something I want to explore again eventually.

• Life admin – keeping myself alive with feeding and cleaning myself and my studio.

• Self care – creating good habits and fitness routines that support all the other stuff I have to do!

• Creativity – still showing up on Substack and creating content on socials.

I don’t think this is too different from the way any of us are trying to build lives for ourselves. Always trying to find that #balance. But moving like this feels like a huge gust of wind that’s making it hard to keep my feet on the ground.

I assume everyone has seen the classic Christmas romcom ‘Love Actually’ and I don’t know how you’ve lived this long if you haven’t! But it’s like when Colin Firth’s pages blow into the pond and he jumps in with the woman he falls in love with (obvs!) … floundering about trying to collect them all to make his book. Those pages feel like each part of my life right now.

Everything all at once feels a lot. And there’s no love interest on the scene to help me gather it all back together. So that just leaves me swimming in a scummy pond by myself!

I chose this move

A few weeks ago I talked about the burden of being different. How when you walk ‘the other way’ on purpose then it’s hard to accept help.

… for being inconveniently single or not making choices that are easier for others to understand. This won’t sound weird for the people that feel similarly but… I think I subconsciously feel guilty. Unworthy of attention or support for my ‘silly’ and ‘crazy’ choices.

So even though I’m struggling to feel my 2 legs to stand on by saying all of the above. Like all the things I talk about, these ‘crazy’ choices don’t exempt us from giving ourself grace. Or saying things are hard if they feel that way.

Am I wanting to break-up already?

It’s not that at all. I genuinely can’t believe that this is my life now. But like most relationships (when it’s NOT a romcom!) … you don’t fall in love overnight. It takes time. It takes work. It’s not actually very sexy at all.

So I think it’s about slowing my relationship with Paris down. To not force everything to happen in a week. For any fellow ADHDers who suffer with limerence, we can vouch that kind of pressure NEVER ends well in a romantic situation!

Which, I have to say has been easier to do in France. I was too conscious to take a photo but 2 girls were sat just in front of my window seat today. Each with a coffee. Both reading their books in silence. Together but also in their own worlds. Just ‘being’ on a Sunday afternoon.

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I think it’s also like the reality of a relationship. It’s been over 2 years since I had any resemblance of a partner in my life and as short lived as it was… I remember how much I’d forgotten all the harder parts. The compromises etc. Even though I wanted it.

And this life right now is EXACTLY what I asked God for. At the end of 2025 I journalled on what I wanted for the year ahead

2026 is my year of living. Fully. Deeply. All in. In pain. In pleasure. In bliss. In fear. In love. In rage. In terror. I want to feel it all. I don’t want to live a half life anymore. I want to be all of me. Unapologetically. To chase my dreams and desires. To be too much, too crazy, too stupid, too wild. Because isn’t that the whole fucking point? To fully live and FEEL IT ALL?!

So be careful what you wish for kids!

Maybe in the same way that we love a rom com … ‘starting over’ sits in the same genre. And sticking with the film analogy, how dull would it be if all these pieces of my life came together overnight?

The clichéness of it being the bloody journey! Which you and I both know it is but it’s good to be reminded of the fact every now and then.

So maybe ‘starting over’ IS romantic after all?

I’m just at the beginning of my movie.

And like a good old 90s classic, it won’t be easy or straight forwards. There will be a character or two that will try and break us up and I’m probably going to cry and think there’s no way it’s going to work!

But… maybe I just need to hold the faith that Paris and I will have a happy ending too.

As much as I’m looking forwards to this new chapter. And as much as I’ve been waiting for it. I mean it’s been over 2 years for god’s sake. Since March 2024 when I recorded a video promising myself I was going to make Paris home longer term.

Despite all of this.

I’m also sh*tt*ng myself!

And mainly because of how uncertain my financial security feels. Because I’ve gone ‘all in’ with all the money I have on this business.

Because what if my delusional travel service idea is just that.

Delusional.

Maybe it’s not a brilliant new idea that nobody has thought of before.

Maybe it’s just that nobody has been stupid enough to ever try it in the first place?

‘The Other Way’ is exactly that. It’s a direction exploring another way to live within the limits of a system that feels too impossible to change.

This publication is all about doing things differently to the way most people around you are doing it. But how far is too far off the path? When do you fall off the map entirely? Like explorers setting sail for new land back in the day, how did they trust to keep going and know they weren’t going to fall off the edge?

But thinking about it, nearly all inventor type characters are portrayed as ‘crazy’. Like the Doc in ‘Back to the Future’ and even Albert Einstein’s sanity was questioned in real life. So maybe this feeling of crazy is a sign that I do actually know what I’m doing?

For those that are new here, I have just had my France Entrepreneur Visa approved so I can FINALLY move and launch my new business for solo travelling women in Paris! You can find out more here

In what a lot of people are labelling as a ‘loneliness epidemic’ … then my travel service is a sure-fire winner! We’re all living in a digital world where making friends and connection should be easier but the human parts of us are only feeling lonelier and lonelier.

It’s especially for single women who are 35+. Who want to experience Paris but don’t have the energy for solo travel anymore. Who are tired of having to navigate everyday life alone. Whose friendship groups have shrunk. Drifted apart after taking different turns at numerous life crossroads. Who have struggled to find others who took the same direction. To be able to spend time with another woman who can resonate, understand and can help them feel like they belong somewhere.

I’ve written a whole Substack on this before. The power of belonging. And if I’m honest that’s what excites me the most about my upcoming move. To be in a new city where I feel like my best self but to also be in an environment where I’ll be able to meet so many like-minded women. To finally feel like I belong somewhere rather than be the friend who doesn’t fit in.

I don’t know about you but spending a day with people who actually SEE me. Who I can be fully myself around. Who are creating lives that excite me and inspire me… well if they could bottle this up then I’d pay alot of money for it!

Paris is only half of the ‘Paris with Lindsey’ experience.

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The evidence that says it won’t work

Despite how obviously successful launching something like this FEELS to me. On paper, the evidence isn’t quite as convincing.

• After launching a few months ago I haven’t had a single person book. I have had a few people add themselves to a waitlist but not a single email enquiry or DM since. Even after my visa was approved two weeks ago.

• I only have 160 followers on my new Instagram profile and engagement and views have been fairly shocking.

• I’ve only had 15 women download my free ‘solo in paris’ travel guide.

• I have a very small email list of 42 and despite writing to them every week it’s once again…been crickets! Not even a single question.

• When I tried to briefly explain to a bro marketer that “it’s like experiencing Paris with the friend you wish you had living there.” He practically laughed in my face. But is this idea of paying someone to be your friend on holiday… just too farfetched? Too weird? Are women too embarrassed to admit it - that they don’t have anyone to go with? I mean…is it comparable to paying for sex?! In my previous business endeavors, I know that even being labelled as ‘single’ isn’t something people want to be publicly identified with.

• This isn’t my first rodeo at business. My other attempts have failed.

I talked about my struggle to believe in a world beyond the brick wall of platform 9 ¾ last week -

And these facts might help my Harry Potter references make more sense to you. Because seriously… no matter how deep your dreams have been embedded into your heart… how off course do you have to go before you finally start to see your destination again?

The evidence that says it will

• I HAVE had women add themselves to my waitlist This means that there ARE humans out there who were curious enough to provide their email address.

• I HAVE 160 followers on Instagram. That’s still 160 people who were intrigued enough to hit the follow button.

• I HAVE had views and engagement and women HAVE downloaded my ‘solo in paris’ travel guide. Progress might be slow but things are happening. My consistency is compounding. And patience is apparently not my forte!

• Even the French authorities believe in me and my business plan! All 97 pages of it that I had to submit to get my visa approval.

• I have already bought the ‘hire a friend in X’ experience. I’m proof of bloody concept! Back in January I went to Costa Rica for a writing retreat. It was only for 5 nights and I thought it was a long way to go to come straight back again. So as someone who is very much over the whole solo travel experience herself… I paid the wonderful Carly Rowena to be my friend and holiday organiser for 3 nights. She planned every activity and even decided where we were going to go for cocktails and dinner spots. It’s something I booked before ‘Paris with Lindsey’ was even born into my imagination and I absolutely LOVED every minute of it.

There isn’t enough evidence yet

Our brains want to keep us safe. Our ego loves certainty. And yes, having no actual income before I leave isn’t the best way to sweeten up my nervous system.

But as crazy as I feel for doing what I’m doing, I know I haven’t actually given it a chance before I put myself on any meds or give up entirely. There is still plenty of time.

I keep reminding myself that I’m trying to launch a Paris business in the shed of my parents’ back garden in Somerset. That I’m living a very ONLINE life at the moment. It’s making me forget about all the human connections and opportunities still waiting for me. Of all the OFFLINE ways of marketing my business when my feet are physically walking along the Seine. The trap that Zuckerberg and all the other billionaire tech b*st*rds who try and convince us that their way of doing things is the only one.

The reason why we’re all so lonely in the first place!

So no, I refuse to give up so soon. Not just for my own financial security but because more of us are craving more humaness in our lives. Who need it.

In fact, I think my travel service is essentially an offline version of my ‘other way’ rebellion. An extension of my mission to create community around wanting, being and seeing different. To offer that physical experience of connection that you just can’t get through a screen. And all via a beautiful city break in Paris!

To help others feel less alone in their own adventuring and questioning of the world.

And so trusting my ‘different’ in business isn’t actually unlike how I trust myself in all ‘the other way’ parts of my life. I trust my fire. My rage. My joy. My passion. To choose going crazy for something I believe in rather than lose my mind doing something I don’t.

And remember that Colombus never set sail for America when he cast off, so I trust that wherever this buisness takes me… I won’t fall off the edge… I’ll eventually land somewhere safe.

I’m still scared as hell BTW but I’m doing it anyway!

But… I think I’m ready to ‘settle down’.

I moved back to my ‘home’ town after 15 years away. But despite being surrounded by family and old friends, it feels like I’ve only half unpacked. Half committed. One foot in, one foot out. In transit. Like I’m STILL waiting for something to begin even though it’s been 4 years since I returned already.

I’ve talked about this subject before. I only wrote it 10 months ago and it was centered on the fact I’ve never really felt the urge to call somewhere home. Especially the place where, as far as my bank account is concerned, has been my home address for the past 30+ years. Questioning whether I was someone who would ever feel that way about a town or a city or even a country.

And my feelings towards Somerset haven’t changed. It’s still very much a non-starter.

Instead, I’m ready to throw a whole can of petrol over my Paris fire. (T- 10 days until I move!) A city that’s already lit up my heart and is sparking with excitement. I’m going all in after pursuing a visa that allows me to make it my main base. I’m not settling for a few months a year, like I talked about in my last post.

But I don’t think having a station somewhere is enough anymore either. I want to fully lean back into a cosy sofa. To not have to perch uncomfortably on a platform bench. I want to get OFF the train and not be waiting inbetween destinations.

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Why Paris?

Because it doesn’t make any sense. A city where I only know one person and is notoriously hard to make friends in. In a country where I don’t speak the language (yet!) and have no income outside a freshly launched business. I haven’t even bloody landed yet!

Maybe I’m taking things too quickly? Am I just love bombing Paris before my anxious attachment kicks in and I start to backstep? Am I not just a big walking red flag that I’d tell any of my friends to run from?

Or maybe Paris is ‘the one’? Like that annoying thing your friends say and how ‘once you know, you just know!’ Or what some people say about a guy and how it’s never about the girl, it’s just the timing and whoever falls within a 10 meter radius of him.

Is it just a fear of commitment?

I don’t believe this feeling of limbo is a fear of commitment. I believe that sometimes it’s just your body’s way of saying this place isn’t yours.

I haven’t changed my mind on that at least. I still believe the place or the person matters. In the same way my body knows it’s not Somerset – I trust the way it reacts when it’s in Paris.

But like a relationship, I still think it’s something you need to proactively choose and to work at. No matter how much the movies have sold us the ‘happily ever after’. To ask yourself whether you want to keep showing up for it. To do a rather unromantic assessment of the facts and what’s working or what’s not. How there’s never 100% certainty in anything in life but to work with all the things you DO know about a situation and to take your best shot.

And based on the facts I have then… Paris seems like it’s worth the aim at least!

Is it just fear full stop?

I’m about to unpack a whole pile of uncertainty into a tiny and temporary Parisian apartment. So maybe this is exactly why I think planting some seeds is a good idea right now. To grow me some roots and to feel more grounded.

I feel like Harry. Who’s just watched the Weasley family run straight into a brick wall at platform 9 ¾ for the first time. Fingers gripping tightly around my trolley, my luggage piled precariously high with a Hedwig balanced on the top of it all. Psyching myself up to run. Really fast. Straight at it. Just like I’ve been told to. But my body is silently screaming stop. Don’t run. It’s going to hurt. And what if a horrible dark wizard is waiting for me on the other side of it all?

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Am I just ‘growing up’?

Maybe the older I’m getting, the more I’m learning about the sweetness of sticking at something. Even when it’s easier to quit or less scary to not even start. The best example I have is my wonderful Jay dog. I adopted him almost 7 years ago and during the first week of ‘trial month’, I was seriously starting to question what the hell I was doing. Making myself responsible for another living thing and giving up a big chunk of my freedom I valued so highly at the time.

But I didn’t let my doubts win. And despite the ridiculous amount of money I spent bringing him back to the UK (we were living in Singapore!) and the vets bills and the literal sh*t I’ve had to deal with… it’s one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever experienced.

I think it crosses over with that ‘half-life’ of not belonging. When you’re only dipping your toes into the pool rather than dive- bombing your whole authentic ass self into the deep end. I think there’s only so long we can resist jumping. Submerging ourself into our lives rather than sitting on the edge and watching everyone else live theirs.

Have I just found home within myself?

I DO believe in finding ‘home’ within yourself though. To be centred in your own heart, body and your nervous system first.

Something that has shifted massively in the last year is how much more at home I feel in myself. From what I write about, reshare and proactively supporting anything that I feel passionate about. How I feel walking my own path on my own timeline and so many less f***s given towards what everyone else might think about it!

I know who I am, what I want , what I like and what I won’t tolerate. I feel like I’ve found my mission with ‘the other way’ here on Substack and Instagram.

So maybe I’m just looking for that external version of home and to support how secure I feel internally.

What do I mean by settling down’?

As someone who has spent so much of her life wanting different. Who’s dedicated a whole bloody Substack to it! I don’t think it’s going to be in the traditional sense. But a bit like the layer I was able to shake off last week, about letting others celebrate my different choices. It’s about letting go of that attachment to ‘different’. That grip. To let my body relax and be open to change. Because change is the only certainty we have anyway, right?!

I don’t know if I can succinctly describe what my version is. But I know I don’t want this limbo anymore. I want friends who I actually see. To go to a terrace and enjoy a glass of wine with them. To date again. To meet someone who I can make future plans with. Build our own version of family. I want my own home to fill with whimsical things that make me smile. I want to build a wardrobe that I don’t have to worry about packing up again. And I want places to go to actually wear the pretty clothes.

I want to build a life for myself.

A big one.

Maybe it’a a combination of it all. The fear. The frustration. The craving for the deep end of the pool. The growing older and the contentment I’ve finally found within myself AND the way Paris makes me feel.

Maybe I’m just ready. On my own timeline with my own milestones.

And maybe once my Paris chapter starts I might change my mind. Maybe it gets too hard. Maybe I’ll have my own Voldermort to tackle.

The truth is there are many maybes. And I might not be a wizard but I trust in my own magic to be able to defeat whatever it is. To hopefully find a Ron and Hermione to make it easier. To trust my curiosity and my knowing that I’m destined for a bigger world than a small cupboard under the stairs. A world I don’t want to go back to or settle for.

So there’s only one thing for it really… to take a good run at it after 3….2…..1…..and GO!

Let’s go and make Paris home!!

‘The Other Way’ is exactly that. It’s a direction exploring another way to live within the limits of a system that feels too impossible to change.

I show up every week because the fire I was born with tells me to. The kindling that was stacked in my stomach at birth. That’s been sparking for most of my life until a whole can of petrol was poured over it a few years ago. A fire that wants to tell the world that wanting different, seeing different, being different is OK. A signal to burn bright enough to light the way and to let others know they’re not alone.

Because walking this path can feel lonely. And it’s difficult to keep stepping forwards in a direction that makes sense to you but nobody else. Whether that’s where you want to live, how you want to earn money or the type of relationship you seek. Or maybe it’s not something you’ve knowingly chosen at all. You’ve just ended up creating a life off the back of what you’ve wanted at the time.

I forget how consciously I’m living these days. But even 25-year-old me, celebrating the start of her 4^th season by getting drunk on six shots of Jager at apres ski… she knew what she wanted next in life and well… today… here we are!

But I’ve been so focused on burning brightly enough to light the way for people like me, it’s been blinding me from the community I already have around me.

That you might already have around you.

A HUGE step towards my dream was realised this week. My visa FINALLY arrived so I can move to Paris! For those of you that don’t know I’m launching a travel business that supports my dream to live in the French capital full time. As a Brit with Brexit restrictions, this was no mean feat. A barrier so many wouldn’t even bother to try and lift or jump over. This is a BIG win!

But rather than bask in the joys of jubilation. Acknowledge my accomplishment. Or crack open the champagne I’d even labelled as ‘to be opened when I get my visa approved’. Instead of celebrating at the finish line of a 5-month marathon process... I decided to keep on running.

Because I can’t lie, I’ve struggled to get any traction with my business so far. Not a single enquiry despite frantically dancing (and failing to impress!) the algorithm. I spiraled. I catastrophized. What was the point in going if I don’t sell a single experience before I fly at the beginning of July? What the hell am I trying to do launching a travel service nobody has heard of before. Like I said last week, why do I have to make my life so hard and scary for myself?!

But then as I shared the good visa news online, the comments and the messages started to trickle in. The excitement from my friends over WhatsApp. The hugs from my parents even though they are more terrified for this next chapter for me than I am! I wasn’t alone in this.

I didn’t have to do ALL of the things by myself. Or overnight for that matter!

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Being single, I think it’s easy to say that you don’t have anyone. That you’re all alone. To be bitter of friends with partners that help them or can support them financially. To sit in the story of “I’m all by myself.” And of course, this then makes doing most things in life feel terrifying.

It’s also against one of ‘rules’ of the system I hate the most. The nuclear family living arrangement and how this way of living is hurting us. Keeping us separated and struggling instead of thriving with the support of a wider kind of family unit. And it’s such a NEW way of living!

I already feel braver knowing I have this love and support behind me. More open to just asking for help when I need it. In Paris and beyond. To stop feeling like a burden for just existing or being inconveniently single or not making choices that are easier for others to understand. This won’t sound weird for the people that feel similarly but… I think I subconsciously feel guilty. Unworthy of attention or support for my ‘silly’ and ‘crazy’ choices.

But that’s not true.

When I shared the exciting visa news to one friend who’s very much taken the more traditional route, she asked if I wanted her to get the girls together before I left. I immediately said ‘of course not, don’t be silly!’ Flabbergasted (love this word by the way) that they would want to try and take time out of their busy diaries to support a move that’s all of my own doing.

And this is despite going to each of their weddings and their hens and buying presents for babies etc. And being very happy to celebrate them all in ALL of these more conventional milestones. Logically… why the hell was I trying so hard to shake off the return of the same efforts?! I’m very confident in my life and how it’s representing the version of ‘success’ that’s right for me but… I think I’ve forgotten to let anyone else celebrate me too.

I’ve never really asked others who aren’t walking my way in life to help me. Except for maybe half hearted requests for a donation to a charity I was running for in a marathon. Even then it felt too audacious of me because again, it’s a stupid challenge I’ve signed up for voluntarily.

I’ve never really asked for help with my (many!) business endeavors. Not unless I’ve paid someone a lot of money to do it or I can give them something in exchange. Or having to hype myself up to even send a message to ask! But I know so many of the people in my life just want to see me win.

Not all of them will say yes of course but when was the last time you asked someone for help? And if it’s assumed that they ‘just would if they wanted to’… do they even know how?

It’s not just societal norms. I fully disclose myself as a hyper independent women. It’s probably got a lot to do with why I’m fricking single! I keep saying I want to meet someone. To share life with. To make things easier. But how the hell will that ever happen if I’m so hell bent in being independent and not ever asking or expecting help?!

I’m not letting my hyper independence fuk it up for me anymore.

So I’m getting ‘the’ champagne out this afternoon with my family. My Mum also loves an excuse to get family together and is putting out the ‘picky bits’ for when a few people come over. To let this visa win be a reason for others to celebrate me. To embody the fact that I’m supported in this next chapter from so many different places. And yes, I can trust myself to do the hard things but… having others around to catch you if you need them…well… it makes it so much less scary!

And the most ridiculous thing about all of this is that my Paris travel experience is basically for hyper-independent single women! Who I’m trying to encourage to let someone else hold the plates for a change. How can I preach what I’m not practicing?

A chance for her to experience Paris without all the shitti stuff that comes with solo travel. Like being able to walk along the Seine without checking the direction on your phone. Having someone else to navigate the metro and even decide where to eat dinner. And yes… they will have to pay me. But I think it’s also about being able to give themeself the permission to even gift themselves something like this.

As I started with… I show up with this publication to help you keep walking ‘the other way’ and to feel less alone doing it. But I would also love for you to look a bit closer to home and to ask for the help I’m sure so many of your friends, family and online worlds would love to offer you.

P.S but if you DO want to get help a bit further away then I would genuinely love to host you in Paris. Now that my visa is here and flights are booked… ‘Paris with Lindsey’ is LIVE and you can find out more here.

It’s been 6 weeks since I left my part-time job as an events coordinator. Naively thinking I would be in France already and not STILL waiting for a visa approval. If you’re new to my world then I’m a Brit who’s in the process of launching a travel experience for single women in Paris . You can find out more about that here but just so my life right now makes a bit more sense to you!

I haven’t yet shared a story time on how I came to choose this next chapter. But the blurb is … I just bloody want to! It’s always been a dream of mine to live in the French capital and f*k it! In a world that doesn’t make any sense to me anymore I’ve decided I might as well shoot for the moon! I’ve been walking ‘the other way’ for the past 5 years now so this isn’t a wholly abnormal life move.

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I’m beginning to question everything I thought would make me happy -

I can’t deny there’s days when I question my sanity for doing what I’m trying to do. Why not just make life easier for myself and get a regular salary role. Or at least within a country I’m allowed to legally work in! But it’s not just that anymore. It’s because my days are now being filled with all the things I THOUGHT would make me happy but… still aren’t hitting the spot.

I have a French lesson every Tuesday and one of this week’s new words was - dépenser = to spend. As in, to spend money. It came up after my teacher asked what I’ve been doing – “quoi de neuf” (what’s new?) and the same answer I’ve been giving recently has been ‘pas grand chose!’( not much!)

Due to saving all my pennies for Paris, ‘spending’ isn’t something I’m doing a lot of at the moment. So I’m rarely leaving the house and most days have felt very groundhog like. Same food, same rotation of joggers and morning routines of yoga and journalling with a cafetière (for 3…don’t judge me!) Spending my afternoons writing Substack posts like this and sharing content that supports my ‘other way’ mission. Getting to be creative and market a business that I really believe in. Not having to go to a job that I don’t miss in the slightest!

Routine isn’t all bad. It means our brains don’t have to work so hard to deal with lots of newness. It’s grounding and stabilising. Especially for me right now when I’m precariously straddling across the English Channel. But if I’m doing all the things I would list in a ‘dream day’ kind of script… why the hell does it not feel as good as I thought it would?

How is this possible?

Your purpose. Your mission. Aren’t they supposed to be the holy grail? The golden ticket? The stick a fork in me I’m done kind of thing?! Self-development junkies spend thousands on figuring out what it is (and yes, I was an addict!) and now that I’ve found mine – has it only ever been a lie? Why does the light I’m trying to shine outwards not feel as bright on the inside?

I’m just part of a collective that was made different. Who was designed to feel uncomfortable enough to figure out an alternative. Who can see the cracks in the building and knows it’s not safe to stay put.

Put here to show up and unite us together through this shift. Something so many more of us are starting to feel now and also becoming more fearful of.

I’ve already discovered that money isn’t enough to buy you happiness so… what’s going wrong? They say your inner world is what matters more so if I’m not happy in Somerset then … what makes me think I’ll be any happier in Paris?

The answer -

I took myself on my weekly café date yesterday. Same place, same order, same seat! (I really don’t help myself with my spontaneity issues!) On the way home I popped into a department store to pick up some skincare I’d run out of. This sounds insane but just the bright colours of the summer dresses and the beads on all the holiday handbags…the trying on the sunglasses for the fun of it… my brain was LOVING the stimulation! I didn’t buy anything but browsing was enough to seriously lighten my mood.

But then a guilt switch flicked. Putting me back in the darkness.

I knew these things weren’t what really mattered. They were frivolous right? Fast fashion etc. God damn it why was I falling for the wile ways of consumerism?! Or was it just my ADHD being overloaded with this huge rush of dopamine?

I was half way to the exit when I spotted it.

An almost life size plastic replica of my sister’s dog. A ridiculous thing. I’d only just made fun of a woman for coming out of the store with a huge and very random piece of interior design… that you know she definitely never went in for! But OMG my sister would love it! Tacky. Probably. But I couldn’t resist the joy I knew it would bring her. And so I bought it for her upcoming birthday. (I’m really hoping this isn’t the day she decides to read my Substacks!)

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Permission to want more–

My vision board is of a beautiful life in Paris – an amazing apartment, fabulous clothes, dinner dates etc. A life that costs a lot of money. And similarly to my panic just before my poodle purchase… I often question whether I’m allowed it. Am I not just a hypocrite for wanting these things? That blurriness between consumerism and a world that’s being cooked by the greed of capital markets.

Logically, on paper, I know wanting more money or having pretty things isn’t the issue. Shitting on late-stage capitalism isn’t about wishing austerity on everyone. I just want a world that doesn’t accept 50 families in the UK having the same wealth as 50% of the entire country as OK! To champion for better equality and prosperity for more of us.

I KNOW all of this but … feeling it is different sometimes.

You need fulfilment AND the frivolousness!

To have discovered that dedicating myself towards something bigger than me isn’t the answer to happiness…..wait a minute…this sounds strangely familiar. The wiring to serve and sacrifice to be a ‘good’ f***ing woman…

Hi patriarchy.

Back again.

From when I find myself second guessing my ‘selfish’ reasoning for not having kids. Or the way I judge myself for wanting something just because. No strings attached. The audacity of me for it.

So I write this as a reminder and a permission slip for me and for you. To allow yourself to dream and be delusional and to chase the big joys and the little.

To want to have it all… the purpose and the poodle! And to trust yourself enough to know when you’re full.

Your purpose is to be you -

A coach I used to work with never stopped banging on about this - how your purpose is not your job. A trap that I think many people fall into. Or KEEP walking into even when they know it’s not the answer (and when I say they I mean me!) Our only purpose in this world is to be. I say this as someone who has found their ‘North Star’ and a bit like the myth of money… knows it’s not enough by itself.

I’ve been struggling to end this post, thinking it needs to be more than what it is. The whole thing was written off the back of a single sentence that I scribbled into my notes during morning pages…

And I think that’s all I do really want and need to say next.

It’s that good old #balance. The acceptance of grey rather than the table tennis between all or nothing. Adding a sprinkle of seriousness with a dash of silliness into a life fit for Goldilocks.

To trust that your heart and desires are taking you to exactly where you need to be going. Whether that’s Paris or buying a silly present for your sister to make everyone smile. Oh! And to also not forget to just switch up your bloody routines because no matter how good something is… you’ll get bored eventually!

(Spoiler alert – I promise you there is hope at the end of this post!)

I’m not even hormonal but I sobbed this morning. I sobbed HARD. After opening what is usually a very uplifting kind of post from Niall Harbison. If you’re new to his name then he has a heart the size of the sun and the tenacity of a terrier that won’t give up in trying to make a difference to the street dogs of Thailand. I say Thailand but his mission is global. He shared the update on a dog that had just survived 3 months of painful surgery on his progressive nose cancer. How within less than a week of being back home, his guardian had woken up to find he’d been killed. Poisoned. Overnight. Along with 5 of her other dogs.

I don’t actually snorkel anymore because I find it too traumatic but the experience in my chest felt very similar to the last time I tried it. Intense inhales through my mouthpiece as if it’s my last. The then constricting pain in my lungs because I’m actually breathing stupidly shallowly. F*ck focusing on any fish…I’m more worried about a big wave crashing over the top of me and breathing it in. But today it’s the fear of drowning in my salty tears instead.

The world is f*cking heavy.

I’m not going to pussyfoot or try and make it more poetic. Let’s call a spade for what it is.

What hope is there for humanity when someone can commit such senseless acts of violence like this? What’s the point of even trying when your efforts can be annihilated with something as small as a few pellets?

As someone who’s learnt that making a difference in the world makes her happiest – will I drive myself mad in trying to fix a system that can never be fixed?

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Change is futile -

Through my bleary crying eyes I continued to dig myself deeper into my pit of despair. My thoughts rapidly shoveling out EVERYTHING I’ve been trying to challenge the system with so far and only leaving behind the facts making it all seem futile. Like the crickets I hear after pressing publish here on Substack. The way I’ve noticed my following go down almost every day on Instagram. Or my content barely going beyond 500 views.

On paper I know I’m being an attention seeking toddler. How ridiculous it is that my confidence evaporates when the validation doesn’t come after it. But…it can still feel pretty pointless when you think nobody is listening. Maybe I just need to quit while I’m ahead and devote myself to something more directly meaningful like Niall has.

And it’s not just the pointlessness. It’s the putting my neck onto the chopping block with every post that challenges the ‘norm’. Ostracising myself and all for what? A majority of ostriches who prefer to keep their heads in the sand. (Fun fact – these words have no relation to each other even though they sound simialr– Ostrich derives from French and ostracise is Greek!)

I was attacked -

I went back to Instagram after a 10 day break last week. And my god how much that improved the strength of my own voice in my head. I posted my first reel about how I didn’t think ‘escaping the 9-5’ was the answer. How it wouldn’t lead to the freedom people are looking for because it’s still the same top down capitalistic bullsh*t most of the time.

Someone didn’t like that very much…

My reel didn’t shit on money. I was shitting on a system that exploits people for it.

Even though I still stood behind everything I said. How I knew her reaction said more about her own fears about her own escape route caving in. Despite logically knowing all of this… my heart still felt like it was about to burst through my chest. Like an exposed zebra sensing the eyes of a lion within pouncing distance.

But it also means my messaging is making an impact. I’ve learnt this before from my reels that have gone viral or the comment section in a Telegraph article I was interviewed for. How you know you’re ‘making it’ when you start attracting the negativity but it still feels very unsafe to receive reactions like this. To be trolled or sent abusive messages.

The game is rigged –

I was trying to mind my own business during my weekly café date this week. But two mothers were sat with their teenage daughters right next to me and I couldn’t help but overhear. One daughter asked if she was allowed to go to University and the mother replied – “well it’s up to you darling because Granny is paying anyway!” My eyes would have rolled if I wasn’t too conscious of them seeing me do it. But the kindling of rage under my ribs had definitely started to smoke.

In an economy where most teenagers are having to serriously question choices like this. Because of the state of the graduate market and whether the RIDICULOUS debt they’re left lumbered with is worth it. How this inherited wealth will always mean that life is easier for these kids. How opportunity is always going to be handed to those who are already ‘ahead’. Ultimately increasing the gap between the haves and have nots. The ‘winners’ and the ‘losers’.

Late-stage capitalism feels like a game rigged against so many of us now so what’s the point in playing when the odds of ‘winning’ feel as slim as the lottery? But we’re being forced to play anyway because it feels too impossible to step off the board without declaring ‘game over’.

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Trying is enough -

I don’t know about you but despite how bleak the days and sometimes weeks can feel… I can’t imagine a life where I give up. To go back to sleep. To stop caring. To not believe that the world can be a better place. That enough love and hope can’t conquer the evil billionaires or an AI dystopia!

I loved a reel made by ‘pissedmagistus’ recently (highly recommend a follow!) and how it’s NOT pessimistic to talk about all the horrible stuff that’s going on in the world. It’s a fear I’ve shared with you before and how I worry nobody wants to hear it.

I question myself for talking about such negativity. That people don’t want to hear about it. Because what’s there to do except hold blind faith in the way we’ve always known? Or why even get out of bed on the days when the world feels impossible. So isn’t it better to stay in ignorance?

He explained how it’s actually optimistic to call it out. To expose how we can and SHOULD be doing better as humans. And how by NOT trying is where the pessimism actually lies. And hello… what do we think the suffragettes or civil rights movements were doing? They were people that believed in, challenged and demanded change. And whose actions we have to thank for so many of the privileges we have today.

I hate to think my nieces might compare themselves to the teenager with the trust fund in the café. It’s one of the things I hate the most about late-stage capitalism. The way it gets the ‘losers’ to think it’s all their fault even though they’ve had 10x the distance to run. I don’t want them or anyone else NOT to try but… to at least recognise where they’re starting their race in comparison to others. To understand the inequality of it. Maybe to inspire them to not compete at all and make up their own rules in the way that you and me are currently questioning the old ones. I truly hope my efforts today will make it easier for them if and when they do.

So my little Instagram posts. These Substacks that I pour my hours into. Me speaking up and calling out the bullsh*t I see in the world is enough. Even if nobody sees them or it triggers a horrible stranger on the internet!

As small as our efforts can feel sometimes or the hopeless amount of difference we think we can make in the world. Or how scary or uncomfortable it can feel to show up for the change we want to see… trying is the only solution. Whether that’s how we vote, what we share online or how we choose to earn money – read more about how I’m navigating this dilemma!

It’s not just about the doing either, action still lies in the things we don’t do. Like where we refuse to shop or spend our money *cough* Amazon! Or to limit our use of the likes of Chat GPT and not accept that it’s inevitable just because those for whom it benefits says that it is. Everyone will have their own scale of ‘trying’ because we all have different privilege and circumstance and who still need to try and thrive in a system that’s still very much alive and kicking.

But “belief is the key ingredient”. The more of us who believe in our power to effect change. Who are calling out the bullsh*t that’s not acceptable. Who are refusing to engage with it or admit defeat. Who are talking about and challenging the things we’re told are too impossible to be any ‘other way’… then I think that’s the only way change IS going to happen.

So no, I might not be able to ‘fix’ the system but… I’m sure as hell not going to give up challenging it! And I hope this post inspires you to keep trying too. xxx

I wasn’t planning to publish this. I had half a decent first draft about feeling crazy within a world nobody else seems to see. But after a particularly personal attack on my life choices this week, I need to let it breathe a bit longer so I say what actually matters and not just what hurt.

So I’ve returned to a topic that frequenetly visits my moring pages - how it feels to be stuck inside a system that teaches women their visibility equals value.

Writing as someone who turns 40 in 6 months time and couldn’t be any more single if she tried! Who’s starting to notice her ‘allure’ is already fading in the world. A piece I’ve probably written for myself but a subject I know so many of my fellow singles are struggling with. The battle between wanting to be ALL of ourselves but not ‘too much’ so we’re left all alone.

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The invisible woman – what do I mean?

It really hurts to write this but I’m talking about women turning transparent to men at a certain age. Or at least the theory and lived expereince for many. Despite already ‘surviving’ the “women expire at 30” apocalypse… I still worry it might be true after the next milestone birthday.

I think the title of this post will enrage a lot of women but I know it will resonate with about the same. I hate that I feel this pathetic. For fearing I might never be ‘picked’ or that I’m approaching my ‘sell by date’. But who also absolutely refuses to put herself on the clearance shelf. Where does that leave me though? In the food bin?

My logical mind KNOWS this is patriarchal bullsh*t. That a woman becomes her even better self post 40. And if a friend came to me with the same mutterings I’d probably tell her she was gorgeous and not to be so silly for worrying.

But if I’ve learnt anything about nervous system work and not repeating old destructive patterns – it’s to let myself FEEL all these things. To NOT call myself pathetic. To take myself and my needs seriously and to acknowledge my fears as a middle aged woman.

F*ck.

There.

I said it.

I’m a middle aged woman.

And it doesn’t feel great to admit it.

Am I the problem?

I feel I should give a bit of background to my dating history for those that are new to this publication. I’ve nearly always been single. My last long-term relationship was when I was at Uni. I’ve fallen in lust many times and dated on and off but nothing that’s lasted longer than 6 months. More often that not it was me that ended things or I was chasing after dopamine fixes from f*ck boys! I might be childfree by choice but my single status has never been intentional. I’ve never given up the hope that one day I might meet ‘my person’. And I think this is the first time I’ve ever admitted it but… I don’t think I’ve ever actually been in love either.

I’m literally as single as I could ever be right now. I’m not on dating apps and life feels on hold whilst I’m unemployed and still waiting for my visa for France. I’ve barely left the house or got out of my joggers! I’m not here to only hold men liable because patriarchy hurts both sexes. I take responsibility for my singleness but I don’t blame myself for it. There’s a difference.

Is it just the world’s warped idea of ageing?

I think for most of us – the idea of becoming invisible is securely tied to our looks. And I don’t think being single makes a difference. A lot of my mum and married friends talk about the ageing phenomenon just as much. How you look in the mirror one day and don’t recognize yourself. The millennial influencer Helen McPherson talked about this exact thing recently – how she scared herself by filming with the back camera rather than selfie mode.

After receiving my photshoot photos from my Costa Rica trip in January, I winced when I looked at the person staring back at me. I’m also collating photos for a photobook at the moment, to celebrate said 40 spins around the sun. I find myself looking back on my younger self and saying f*ck! I was gorgeous! But I don’t doubt I’ll do the same with the Costa Rica photos in 10 years’ time. So I’m reminding myself I need to appreciate the face staring back at me in the mirror more. (During a luteal week though… this sh*t feels harder!)

There’s obviously the ridiculous expectations the media puts on women. The latest ‘Devil Wears Prada 2’ used aggressive digital noise reduction in post-production. Not a single pore or wrinkle visible on Andi or Miranda to suggest that ANY ageing has taken place in the last 20 years. Then there’s the filters we’re so used to seeing every day on our social media feeds. I’m part of that fakery. I might not touch botox or fillers but I use the ‘Paris’ filter in nearly every Instagram story. And as much as I’m embracing my natural self offline…maybe one day I will succumb to having salmon sperm injected into my eye bags?!

And is the fact I spend so much more time looking at myself through the lens of social media or in the mirror… the reason why the ‘real’ me frightens me so much sometimes? Am I to blame for my own suffering here?

The aesthetic pressure women face today could be a separate post in itself but isn’t this the version of women most men are seeing too? Isn’t this infecting men’s expectations of a partners looks? Adding this to the body insecurities we already face… this makes more sense as to why so many of us feel like we’re about to walk over the ‘over 40s’ hill?

It’s not just how you look it’s how you taste!

I’ve been watching ‘Celebs Go Dating’ this past few weeks. And yes, I’ve already warned you about my terrible reality TV guilty pleasures! – you can catch up here.

But Lucinda Light got really vulnerable about not being everyone’s cup of tea - Celeb’s Go Dating star Lucinda Light breaks down in tears as she admits fear she won’t find love She’s only 5 or 6 years older than me and what she said truly resonated “There is such a huge mass of women in their middle age that are not being met, or found or touched or felt… There is a bit of a loneliness epidemic, and it’s so sad.” I was watching it with my Mum (I live with my parents) and I shared how much I agreed.

I have not touched, kissed or had any kind of physical intimacy in over a year now. I’ve just left my events job but last Christmas one of the female external organisers rubbed my shoulder in a very innocent ‘thank-you’ gesture kind of way. My body felt like 1000 volts had been run through it! Intimacy is a human need. To think that we don’t need it is, in my opinion, just kidding yourself.

And the older we get, the surer we become of ourselves. We know what we value. What we like and what we will and won’t tolerate. We FINALLY like ourselves!! They say this is what puts some men off and I would 100% concur that any man threatened by this ‘blend’ isn’t worth sacrificing it for.

But. The loneliness still lingers nonetheless.

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Who wants to date a socialist?

I wrote about my fears about never finding love in April last year. How I thought I was being super transparent back then by saying I didn’t want kids and wanted to move to Paris but – how the hell do I describe myself now? - Likes to reshare dog rescue reels and how to take down capitalism?!

I wouldn’t have even thought about putting ‘political views’ on a dating profile before but it’s not just me that’s changed dramatically in 12 months. The world is a different place too. With the far-right building momentum, maybe more of us are realising we DO need to stand for something. That being in the middle isn’t good enough to create change anymore. Being British, politics is one of the top three taboo conversation starters but I couldn’t think of anything WORSE than turning up to a date to find out they’re a ‘Reform’ supporter. (That’s the far right vote in the UK) It’s not just about who you put an x on a piece of paper for anymore. It’s a whole different way of looking at the future. How is ‘sticking out’ and sharing this stuff more ‘cray cray’ than not?!

The bloody menopause!

Sorry…the pun wasn’t actually intended! I’m noticing subtle shifts. Like my PMS symptoms getting stronger and my cycle slightly longer and shorter some months. Although the past couple of months haven’t exactly been regulating the old cortisol levels with quitting jobs and waiting for visas etc. I don’t want kids, never have. So that’s a pressure or grief I’m thankful not to bear.

As unsexy as the whole thing feels… maybe I just have to wait a few more years and then I won’t care for male attention or for sex. But then that also makes me sad because I’m like…what a fricking waste! My younger years were far from celibate but oh my god the kind of sex I would be having now as someone who is so much more sure of herself. Who isn’t just having sex to please men or to be liked or to be chosen. God I want to hug that younger version of me so much right now!

But seriously though…is this it?!

What am I going to do about it?

I’m not actually going to do a lot. At least not until I move to Paris because there’s not a lot of point!

But I realise the being single part of ‘the other way’ direction isn’t that different from the way I show up for myself in all the others. Or how the ‘normal’ path generally makes me feel - broken and misunderstood. Ultimately, it’s about trusting I will be supported by following my heart and not settling for a life that’s anything but full colour!

My worries of never finding anyone isn’t too dissimilar to my shrinking social media follower count. They both tease my fear that the more I show up as myself then the more I might be all alone forever. But I think there’s a saying about wheat and chaff and well… you know the one!

And actually after writing all of this, I’ve come to the ridiculous realisation that to stay ‘visible’ and ‘valuable’ within this patriarchal world, I will actually have to make myself as invisible as possible. To shrink, diminish, inject and reject all of the things that make me me. That’s wild. I refuse to do that. No matter how lonely the bad days feel sometimes.

Being seen by many men isn’t the issue. It’s about being truly seen by the right one. And if I camouflage myself then how the hell am I supposed to be found?

Also…I’m not attracted to invisible either! To someone who doesn’t have a view about the state of the world or who’s choosing to bury their head in the sand. Someone who isn’t pursuing the things they’re passionate about and settling for safe instead. So why am I trying to run away from my own wildness when it’s something I seek in someone else?

So no. I don’t want to be invisible. I also don’t want to be alone. But if I can’t be seen as myself then I’m willing to hold out until I truly am.

This numbing behavior isn’t wholly out of the ordinary. It’s the non-surprising coincidence that it’s also my luteal phase and when you inject my ADHD I get even more desperate for some dopamine. Getting my fix from my little habits that I’m 1000% aware of but… still persist longer than I’d normally let them.

But why the hell am I telling you this?

Well in my return post I talked about this being a diary like publication so I’m keeping things super transparent. But I also want to remind you there’s an actual human writing this and for you to recognise the human within yourself. Your fears, your frustrations , your annoying habits… I think seeing your imperfect human self within my words is important.

Who need to feel less alone (and less insane!) for asking the questions that ‘the other way’ raises. Because it’s not an easy route to take and at times it can feel fuck*ng terrifying!

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Getting to the point…

If I described my life on paper right now, nobody would be convinced to keep following me along ‘the other way’ path. But I hope by the end of this post you’ll be reminded of every single part of you that knows you just can’t not…and how to feel safer walking it.

My life on paper right now -

(If you’re a new reader and need more background - I’m a Birt living in the Uk who’s trying to get a visa to live and launch a travel service for solo travelling women in Paris!)

Last week I asked how we can earn money in a way that doesn’t keep the hamster wheel moving. A wheel the majority are too scared to step off. (Catch up here) I explained how I’m choosing self-employment and aligning with my values as much as possible. Which sounds great in theory but… my god the reality is NOT fuck*ng roses!

I think I question my safety and sanity almost every day so please know this is normal if you’re on a similar path to me.

I’m 40 this year. So even though I keep talking about this capitalism cliff everyone else is walking towards… am I 100% sure my route doesn’t have a bigger drop coming up? How do I know it’s safe to keep walking? To exist in this limbo I’m in right now? How do I stay brave when it feels like the lights around me are getting dimmer and dimmer?

Well… I’m going to share the 8 things that are helping me feel less afraid of the dark.

1- Knowing that the only way is through

I’ve tried reversing my direction SO MANY times now so I know it only leads to a dead end. Or it circles back to the same dark spot I’m sat in right now. I’ve written about this before and the way we always try and open the door that never works.

So after 5 years I finally surrender to the fact that the only way through this darkness… is to sit in it. To be brave. I’m done with going around in circles and getting lost in a direction my heart knows is the wrong way for me.

2- Reminding myself of my joy

Despite how scary my life looks on paper right now, my day to day is actually pretty spectacular! I don’t have a job to turn up to so I get to enjoy slow mornings every day of the week. Indulging in long yoga practices, coffee and journalling hours, hugs with my dog, bird watching in the garden with mum, writing Substack’s, working on my ‘Paris with Lindsey’ business (albeit with no certainty over the visa being granted!)

When my brain spirals, I ask myself what would change if someone gave me £1million tomorrow. And actually, the foundations of my day wouldn’t change all that much. Despite ‘looking’ like a failure at 40, the reality is that I’m getting to enjoy all the things that mean the most to me.

I’m serious! As someone who’s had surplus funds before, the nice clothes, the fancy restaurants etc they are nice to have don’t get me wrong, but they’re not the things that actually make a difference. Despite scrolling vinted this morning, I KNOW that having another boyfriend shirt hanging in my wardrobe is not actually going to make me happier (anyone else obsessed with shirts btw?!)

3 – I am physically SAFE!

That’s the truth right now. I’m very lucky to be living with my parents who won’t leave me hungry or homeless. I’m also allowing myself to RECEIVE their support without freaking out or feeling like a terrible daughter. For example, because I’m not working right now my Dad has said it’s OK to not pay my rent next month. I keep asking God to let it be easier for me but my knee jerk reaction is to normally push away help and maintain my medal of ‘struggle’.

For the majority of us (and with obvious exceptions excluded) no matter how scary life might seem at the moment, you are physically safe and your basic needs are being met. It’s our egotistical brains that like to make up monsters living under the bed. Or to escalate that ‘worse case scenario’ that actually… isn’t that unsafe.

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4 – Growing pains are normal

My individual needs aren’t enough to movitate me anymore. To keep on walking ‘the other way’ despite how hard it is somedays. I think that’s why I’m dragging my heels when it comes to working on ‘Paris with Lindsey’. My basic needs are met with this little life. It’s comfortable. It’s safe. I’ve realised the foundations of my day won’t really change that much in Paris and those extra things like clothes I mentioned above… they don’t matter to me all that much anymore!

But am I bored?

Abso-fricking-lutely!

It’s not even been 3 weeks of not working and it’s made me realise how much the events job was blinkering me, distracting my attention from the reality of my too quiet life underneath it. I’ve outgrown myself. And that’s OK.

I read a lovely post from this morning about the see saw between our appreciation of the present and our ambition for ‘more’. But I think we’re all just big plants at the end of the day. So we should give ourselves permission to grow and not feel guilty about it. Yes… we need to be fed and watered in the now but it’s also natural to want to reach for the sky and beyond. It might be uncomfortable and scary as hell but these growing pains are part of the journey.

5 – My mission is bigger than me

So if a fancy car and a full wardrobe aren’t enough then what is the ‘more’ I’m trying to grow towards?

Moving to Paris is my growth. Launching Paris with Lindsey is my growth. Showing up here on Substack again is my growth. I mean… leaving the house and not wearing joggers is growth for me right now!

But it’s the bigger picture underneath all of that. Launching a business that means something to me, that will also facilite a life in Paris, that leaves space to create, to write, to speak, to share. My creativity being the only thing that truly gives me that sense of peace and fulfillment (and it doesn’t actually cost a penny!)

Like I shared before (catch up here) I believe it’s my mission, purpose, whatever you want to call it… to express myself as an artist. To ask questions. To document and share this path and how I’m finally accepting this ‘knowing’ that never leaves me.

And I REALLY wish I knew why it has to happen in Paris because it’s making life very hard for me! But… it’s where my heart is telling me to go and and through the fear and the confusion, it’s actually the only thing I DO feel certain about at the moment. Like a North Star.

6 – Letting myself be scared

Transparency as always - I still Google for jobs to try and rustle up a Plan B. To look for an alternative route, one with straighter roads and less scarier bends. Especially now that I’m unemployed. I let my scared little self scroll through the horrendous job opportunities and like a small child… it soon comes to its own conclusion that it’s a waste of time.

And yes, that energy could be best spent elsewhere but I think allowing the fear to be seen. To get it up and out, whether that’s through my morning pages or looking for jobs or via the numerous numbing habits I like to self sooth with. I kind of treat myself like a toddler. I let it have its tantrum to do what it needs to do to and to get it out of it’s system.

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I give myself the same compassion I grant my my dog. He gets anxious sometimes and paces all about the house. There’s no reasoning with him and yes… it’s annoying as hell! But I just have to wait for him to finally settle somewhere and start snoozing again.

But seriously though – how can you be mad at that?

7 – Watering

In this limbo I find myself in, I need basic structure and routine. It’s the only whisp of control I can actually grab onto at the moment. And my non-negotiables I’m trying to tick off each day =

- Morning pages

- 1 hour of yoga

- Eat my green breakfast and eggs before I drink coffee and eat sugar.

- Listen to at least 10mins of French everyday.

- In bed and lights off by midnight.

Then there’s my weekly tasks like publishing a Substack every Sunday, writing to my ‘Paris with Lindsey’ waiting list every Friday and taking at least 1 action a day on my business. Sometimes I don’t do everything and that’s OK. I lean into that compassion again rather than using a whip! Like deleting social media for a week to give my over functioning nervious system a break!

I’m ultimately watering myself. To sit in both the anxiousness of the present with self care AND to grow into the version of Lindsey I see in Paris. (I refer back to the plant analogy!) And like a temperamental orchid… it’s hard to get the balance right sometimes.

8 – Building trust

This ‘watering’ doesn’t just keep me strong, sane and more resilient during scarier times. But by showing up for myself and doing the things I say I’m gong to do, it makes me TRUST myself so much more. To believe I’m strong enough to sit in the dark and that I’ll be OK when the lights come back on.

There’s 2 podcasts that speak more about this ‘bare minimum’ mindset and ‘small promises’ to yourself. They build trust and bridge the gap between who you are today and the version of yourself you want to be and KNOW you can be!

Wendy O’Beirne and “Embracing the Bare Minimum for Lasting Change”.

The Florence Given Show and “What if you allowed yourself to be mediocre?”

The way I’m feeling right now after creating this post, it blows my mind that I spent 2 hours avoiding the task. Because creativity is the therapy that keeps me holding out for the light the most. But it’s scary to grow. So I think this resistance and procrastination we struggle with sometimes is just the FEAR of becoming the future version of ourselves. Even when it’s the thing we want most in the world.

I’m not sure if the fear ever goes away.

But I think the more you create a life that makes sense to you and not a life that you ‘should’ live then… the path ahead will only become lighter. I can’t say for certain of course but if we don’t try then surely we’d only ever sit in grey at best?

And I don’t know about you but I refuse to settle for any life that isn’t in 4K technicolour!

Money. How do you survive and meet your own needs without feeding the beast that’s to blame for us all needing so much of it in the first place?

Last week I talked about this growing fear and the fragility of the future. But until the revolution kicks off or the change we’re naively clinging on for kicks in… what do we do whilst we’re waiting?

Especially when it comes to money because we need it. I have barely any of the stuff at the moment and it feels pretty sh*t! I like having it. Who doesn’t? (And I’m someone who should probably call herself a socialist.)

The 3 things I’ve tried so far -

1) A high paying bullsh*t job

If you’re new here then I used to work for big banks in both London and Singapore. Only on the compliance side but still responsible for keeping their pockets as full as possible. My main frustration for leaving (both times! ) was being a tiny cog in a very big wheel and it all feeling totally pointless. Like working on a project for 18 months and then being let go, project unfinished and because the budget ran out. True story. Despite getting paid nearly 80k a year for doing ‘nothing’ and in my own words… “ I couldn’t keep doing this sh*t anymore!”

I think it’s only been this past year where that refusal to settle for such a bullshit job has become even more powerful. Largely due to learning about how the hamster wheel ACTUALLY goes around. So now it hurts for me to be OK with working for such a big player in the pain most of us are experiencing at the moment.

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But what do I mean by this?

Well working for an entity that makes its profits on the backs of debt and people needing to borrow. From your regular citizen wanting to own a roof over their head – for example - borrowing 300k over 30 years at around 5% could mean:

• paying about £1,610/month

• repaying around £580k total

• meaning roughly £280k of that is interest to the bank

(Also, confession here, it’s only been about 2 years that I knew this was how mortgages actually worked… I thought it was just 5% of the total! Silly me!)

To facilitating billionaires to “live off” their loans. By allowing them to borrow against their assets, never actually selling them and therefore foregoing any tax obligations too. This means they can buy more assets, which then puts the prices up. For example, a house that said regular citizen wants to own for, you know, safety and shelter… those kinds of needs. Who then has to borrow a stupid amount of money to not only afford said house but to pay a shit ton of interest to a bank who can then give it to …...oh wait.

It’s also how finance can afford to pay such high salaries for bullshit roles like mine. The ridiculous bonuses etc etc. And then you look at a nurse whose job actually matters and they’re paid barely enough to feed themselves.

The math doesn’t math and I can’t keep fudging the numbers anymore to help me sleep at night. Trust me. I really wish I could and I don’t judge anyone who does work for similar institutions.

2) A sh*t paying job with more meaning

In November 2024 I started working as an events coordinator at a local wedding venue. A part time gig to give me some financial stability whilst in another transitionary – WTF am I doing with my life – kind of period! At least I had the job satisfaction of making someone’s dream day come true, even if it only paid me £14.50per hour.

It was an inherited family business where about 85% of the staff are on zero hours contracts. Operating with as few as possible some days, relying on the hard graft of a team who weren’t paid much more than minimum wage. Not that the owners didn’t work hard for their money. The difference being their take home allowed them to pay into trust funds and buy more investment properties etc. The staff… hopefully enough to pay their bills at the end of the month.

I don’t blame them. They’re not even aware of it. Or the staff for that matter. Simply grateful for the fact they have the opportunity to even pay their living costs. It’s just the system. It’s the way the world works.

My brother works for a factory. 12 hour shifts. 2 days, 2 nights. 4 on and 4 off. He still lives at home too by the way whilst him and his girlfriend (who is a nurse) are saving to buy a house. (Please read number 1 as to why they are having to do this!) Whilst the factory owner, based in Monaco btw, reported a 7 million pound profit last month.

There’s days when my eyes refuse to close. When my questions run away from me. And being honest… there’s days when I wish I wasn’t quite so curious. Because how the f*ck am I actually going to exist in this world if nothing changes? What job am I actually left with?

I feel so alone in my anger and passion for wanting different. My frustration at why nobody else can see the unfairness that I see. Who wants to change it.

But I remind myself of my privilige. That most don’t have the time to ask questions like these. Too scared to ask yes but also… not having the capacity. Instead they’re constantly treading water, trying to stay afloat in rising waters.

3) Self employment AND job satisfaction

For those who are new here I’ve forayed into self-employment a couple of times now. Life coaching (twice!) Starting a community to connect more of us who felt like they didn’t fit in. Even when I had a day job, I was still showing up on Instagram and TikTok and being bold of me, became a fairly famous advocate for living with parents. Writing here on Substack.

Enthusiastically trying to get that fulfilment whilst earning money in a way that didn’t feel like I was selling my soul or getting screwed over! Being honest though, it was the Sagitarius in me that was first attracted to the freedom of working for yourself and not the cage of annual leave and working hours.

I did NOT love the Telegraph turning me into clickbait!

The problem was, I didn’t earn a penny from any of it. Well that’s a lie. Let’s say about £500 over 5 years. But… you get my point.

Shouldn’t this be a sign to give up already? And is making money from doing something you love only allowed for the few ‘lucky ones’?

So what’s left?

I’ve actually looked up the phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat’ “An idiom and proverb that gets banded around a lot – especially to people who tend to ask a lot of questions.”

As I’ve already mentioned , it would be far easier to conform to the system. It’s just too hard to escape. And how far can you actually go in all of this WITHOUT running away to the woods? How can you resent everthing about it but still exist, survive and even thrive within it?

Well…this is what I’m going to try anyway!

In a world that doesn’t make any sense to me anymore I’ve decided I might as well shoot for the f**ing moon! It also won’t be a surprise to some of you that that’s pursuing my dream to live in Paris.

I decided to make my ‘one day’ today. And at the beginning of Feb 26 I handed my notice in at the events venue.

I didn’t just quit because my bitterness got the better of me. It was also because I only earnt £19k last year and … unless I live with my parents forever (this can’t physically happen even if I wanted it to!) then I’m pretty screwed! It’s scary to bet on myself with self employment again. But as I’ve said , the water is rising and if I don’t jump and try and swim now then… I feel like I’m going to drown anyway.

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But where am I swimming to? I’ve applied for a France visa (thanks Brexit!) that will allow me to launch my own travel service business - hosting women in Paris one-to-one. Mainly for single women, like me, who can’t be arsed with the stress and strains of travelling solo anymore. You can find out more here.

But I’m still waiting for my visa despite finishing up at my events job last week and I’m in limbo now until it turns up.

If it turns up.

(And if anyone (including myself!) can travel soon if the oil reserves run out but… we move!)

“I don’t want to ‘scale’ or any of that sh*t. I just want to fund my life in Paris by helping women explore the magic that lives there. Oh and to spend my days in yoga practice, writing, reading and just being my happiest human self.”

So I’m giving option 3 another attempt - the holy grail of money AND meaning.

I don’t know if this is the right answer either. On how to earn money in a way that’s not expoliting myself or my customers. I take us back to the boxing ring of contradiction that I started this post with -

I’m charging a fair price to be an equal energy exchange. But then I’ve thought about the negative environmental impact and how I’m adding to the carbon footprint. Or what about the jobs that my customers will have and where that money comes from to pay for my services? Where the hell do I draw the line before I go completely mad?

And maybe they might change again in the future. Maybe I WILL have to tap out of the system altogether. But I think that’s the advice I would have for anyone reading this. Who’s struggling with the boxing match happening in their own heads.

Our values are drumming louder inside our beating hearts everytime we scroll or switch on the news. We’re being signalled to take notice. To look inwards. To try and figure out the best way of showing up and without cutting off our own air supply.

Follow them.

No judgment wherever they take you or don’t.

As exhausting and as confusing and as hard as it feels to exist in today’s world, I know I will only find peace by aligning myself with my own knowing. So I HAVE to keep trying to figure it out. And a reminder that it’s only your own peace that you need to meet. Not mine or of others.

Like I said last week, talking and writing about such subjects feels bleak.

But these things DO concern us. And having more of us ask questions is the only way we are going to figure out the ‘different’ that feels too impossible to envisage. It doesn’t matter how different our questions or our changes are off the back of them.

Our curiosity is needed.

These times DO require our concern and attention.

For our own wellbeing as well as others.

I’ve still been writing though. Nearly everyday in my morning pages. But I can’t resist the resistance to showing back up in the world anymore. Or more pressingly. For myself.

You know the longer you stay away from something the harder it is to return. Well… the discomfort of NOT doing it is finally more painful than the doing. And the thing that matters now is sharing what I can’t stop writing, feeling, seeing, knowing... within all the crevices of my body. The thing I know other people will resonate with. The same thing others are questioning and who are desperately looking for some answers.

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‘The Other Way’ isn’t a choice anymore -

For the OGs amongst you, you’ll have witnessed the metamorphosis of ‘The Other Way’ over the years. My latest attempt at putting it into words only went live in September (catch up here).

But there’s no ‘maybe’ about it anymore. Is there?

The world has changed so much since September.

And I’ve become ferociously angrier and more frustrated at each new turn.

I read back on posts like this and I almost laugh at how polite I was still trying to be. “Soft rebellion” I think not! We need to be more f**king honest about the speed of the changes and how we no longer have a choice but to seek out something different.

The truth you can feel but might not want to acknowledge –

Like watching NASA launch billions of dollars into space to loop around the moon, while the same country launches a war its own president can’t even properly explain. And he’s not doing it alone. Backed by another world leader charged with serious war crimes but facing no accountability for any of it. The whims of two narcissistic men. Responsible for horrific loss of human life and f**king up the global economy all at the same time. And… no sign of anyone or anything coming to stop them.

Or the money being poured into AI and robots to replace human work… instead of being invested in the very real problems of homelessness and poverty on the streets of the same tech playgrounds. A growing problem all over the world. Last month Oracle laid off 18% of it’s workforce with a simple email. Here in the UK, graduate positions have reduced by 33% (2025 data).

Uncertainty for the future is felt more strongly than ever.

Some of us are starting to question what an alternative might look like whilst others keep their heads in the sand. Because “ fingers crossed… maybe next year things will finally get better?!”

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Life feels dark enough -

I question myself for talking about such negativity. That people don’t want to hear about it. Because what’s there to do except hold blind faith in the way we’ve always known? Or why even get out of bed on the days when the world feels impossible. So isn’t it better to stay in ignorance?

But I have to stop thinking about the people that don’t want to hear this. I’m here to show up for those of us who do.

Those who ARE asking the questions. To continue stirring the pots of curiosity that have started to simmer. Even when it shines light into the darkness we’d rather ignore. Even when there may not be answers but who refuse to keep walking towards the edge of the cliff nobody else seems to be aware of.

‘The Other Way’ makes so much sense now –

My return to Substack is also my own acknowledgment (f**cking finally!) of ‘the other way’ within myself. To stop fighting the pain of not belonging. What I’ve talked about before but struggled to truly embody.

The knowing that I’m different but never truly accepting or encouraging my sharp. Uncomfortable. Edges.

I smile as I read this old post. Because what I talk about here isn’t wildly different to what I know about myself now. But I wasn’t brave enough back then. And that’s OK. But nearly 8 months later, I’m finally ready to step into my authenticuty. Fully. To lead in the way I knew I was supposed to all along.

The way I’ve felt for most of my life is finally making sense. From my ADHD diagnosis to no desire to having children. To not being able to settle in an industry that people called me crazy for leaving. For being almost permanently single to championing living with parents.

All of it.

Everything that’s made me feel so painfully alien when I’ve woken up so many mornings.

But the dots are fianlly connecting.

I’m just part of a collective that was made different. Who was designed to feel uncomfortable enough to figure out an alternative. Who can see the cracks in the building and knows it’s not safe to stay put.

Put here to show up and unite us together through this shift. Something so many more of us are starting to feel now and also becoming more fearful of.

And so to start sharing again. Rather than trying to fight it and push it into the corner of a ring. To lean into it. To exhale and trust that this is exactly who I am and what I’m meant to be doing.

And I hope that for anyone who has been on ‘the other way’ path with me. That this gives you the courage and more powerfully… your peace. To set free your own ‘different’ and to stop trying to contort it into staying small.

OK but….what IS the alternative?

The brutally honest answer is that I don’t actually know. And this is what’s been holding me back from publishing anything for nearly a year. Like what’s the point of just raising my rage and all the things that are wrong with the world? To keep criticising a system with no obvious alternative. How is that helping anyone? How is this going to help those who even read my Substack articles?

Because this anger and confusion and fear. It raises questions.

It helps lift heads up out of the sand.

By acknowledging it. Feeling it.

Because thinking out loud gives others the permission to think similar thoughts and to keep encouraging them to make sense of a world that doesn’t make any anymore.

That is the beginning of the change.

The more of us who challenge the status quo. Who are opening our eyes, no matter how painful that might be sometimes. Who are willing to get uncomfortable and to take braver steps towards different.

Asking questions is enough.

Because it means more people will start seeking new answers. For themselves AND their neighbours.

1998. I was 11 when this film came out (you’re welcome for making you realise how old you are!) but just like in Bugs life - “You let one ant stand up to us, then they all might stand up! Those puny little ants outnumber us a hundred to one and if they ever figure that out there goes our way of life! It’s not about food, it’s about keeping those ants in line.” - when people unite together for the same cause… change IS possible.

Believing that an alternative exists…

A phrase I’ve heard a lot by one of my favourites to follow - Grace Blakely – is “Why is it so much easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism?

I haven’t mentioned that word once yet btw and I’m very nearly at the end.

Capitalism.

But it’s the ‘thing’ and the ‘it’ I’ve been referencing throughout this post. A post you may not have read if it was in sentence number two. Too political. Too socialist. Too conspiracy theorist perhaps?

I’ve been educating myself on what capitalism actually is since I last wrote. And for me, it’s given a tangible understanding of WTF is going on with the world. How being the only system we’ve ever known explains the way we’re all feeling right now. Naming ‘it’ has actually stopped me feeling so hopeless. Less scared. So I hope to start making it a more comfortable word for you to use too.

Even though I don’t have a perfectly formed answer of what the alternative is. I’m someone who’s ALWAYS asked questions.

I was going to put - for the least 5 years and when Covid forced me to have a serious reckoning with myself. But it actually goes back to when I was just 21. When I jumped off the corporate ladder for the very first time, encouraged by the 2008 GFC. The more I look back on the timing of my life, the more sense my part to play makes within the bigger picture.

I’ve experienced the broken promises of the system for a long time now. Alongside years of questioning the rules about what happiness and success as a human looks like. You’re not alone if this has been your experience too.

I can’t see around the corner of the path in front of me. But I’m going to keep walking and trust I can figure out, whatever may be lying around the other side.

I’m going to go first.

And I refuse to give up believing in an alternative.

I think that’s what this publication will ultimately be - a real time diary of a woman who is seeking ‘the other way’. The alternative to the ‘rules’ that doesn’t make sense anymore. And actually… this Substack is only continuing what it’s always been. Because all of my 80+ posts and podcasts have questioned the very same thing = navigating a life when you question the ‘normal’ you’ve always been told.

Except now… it’s less of a choice. We NEED a new ‘normal’.

And I invite you along as a subscriber, to keep creating an alternative path for yourself too. To help you make sense of the questions that keep getting louder in your own head.

Next week I’ll be sharing more about what I’m actually doing in my life right now because there’s been some BIG external shifts since I last posted. And how I’m navigating the tension between making money in a sysytem that NEEDS you to earn it and not wanting to feed the monster further. Oooorrrr without tapping out completely and running away to a cabin in the woods! (Because I know I’m not the only one who’s tempted by this right now!)

So let’s start with the trashy TV. Stranded on Honeymoon Island which you can catch up with via the BBC. Basically a mash-up of MAFS, Ex on the Beach and Love Island. And I know, I know… these shows are never about connecting two humans and helping them find eternal love. It’s all about entertainment value and views. So producers pick the most excellently emotionally unavailable ‘contestants’.

You might be thinking - well why the hell are you watching it Lindsey if you know it’s fake and forged as f*ck?! The initial honest answer is that I just want to numb the hell out right now! To distract myself from the true reality of the world.

I also think it’s because it still sparks my hope for love. Something I almost live vicariously through whilst my dating life lies dormant. Maybe I like watching it to give me hope or inspiration perhaps? Although, maybe it’s self-sabotaging too because all these shows seem to do is make me SO grateful for how single I am!

(Saying all this I absolutlely WILL be suckered into watching the new UK MAFS series that’s starting tonight!)

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Why is it a race?

But what baffles me most about these types of shows is… what the hell is the obsession with being married anyway?! It feels more like a game show than reality TV at times. The women gushing over the prize of a wedding ring now secured on their third fingers. How happy they are and how good it feels. You’ve just married a total stranger love…in what world are we not thinking ‘WTF’ to be the most accurate reaction?!

It’s 2025 and there’s still this sprint to the ‘finish line’. Ticking boxes, clearing hurdles and collecting applause as you race around. Where a ring and the ‘wife’ title often outshines the reality and importance of what marriage actually is.

Which brings me to a reel I saw with Will Young on Jamie Laing’s podcast. When he was talking about the “single friend sympathy.” How once you hit 40, people stop inviting you to things but also feel sorry for you. And he’s like… why are you feeling sorry FOR ME?! You’ve got the ring and the house and the kids but…your relationship is f*cked! How he’d rather be single forever than deal with a relationship like that! And same Will…same!

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So is marriage bullshit?

I’m not against it. But to be honest I really don’t give a sh*t about the wedding part. As a part time wedding coordinator who enjoys their job this might sound ironic but … I have no interest in organizing my own! I equally hate the idea of a hen doo and all the other expectations a ‘typical’ marriage comes with.

I see weddings on a weekly basis and there are couples who make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. When you can see the bond and beautiful partnership between them. And if they want to celebrate their love with all their friends and family then great! You do you at the end of the day. But I also see couples who are in love with the wedding rather than the marriage. The performance. The commercialisation. The prize. And the glorification of perhaps being “worthy”.

Poorna Bell wrote a brilliant post recently about not marrying for love alone. How it’s not self-sustaining and well, the UK’s 42% divorce rate backs this up quite well. The romcom-ification of love and diamond rings, perhaps to blame for commitments that should never have been made in the first place? She describes marriage as a couple’s capacity to “co-exist and grow and evolve and buils a life together.”

Am I just jealous?

I really don’t think being a ‘wife’ is what I’m worried about. In fact, it might be something I’m subconsciously avoiding! Whilst enjoying a spicy ‘quinn’ episode the other day, an unexpected ‘wife’ label dropped in and I was quite surprised how much my body turned ‘off!’

Why did I freeze at being called that when I say I crave deep romantic intimacy? I don’t fully know yet. I’ll journal and do some embodiment practices to uncover why being called a ‘wife’ might frighten me. But I DO know that being aware of those reactions is the first step. Our bodies often tell us the truth before our brains catch up. That little jolt, that contraction, that “ugh” feeling? It’s data. It’s your intuition and subconscious self showing up in real time.

I’m not against marriage. But I’m not desperate for it either. I DO crave partnership. Love. Intimacy. (Or at least consciously I do!)

The love worth waiting for

Will Young also talked about the joy of being able to shag your best friend in the very same reel. Again I’m 100% here for this and holding out for the right relationship.

Carly Rowena is one of my fave influencers and she shared a reel about her husband Leon reading a book on menopause so he can understand what she’ll go through despite only being in her 30s. I think she’s had many many messages now about how she can clone him!

I try and consume as much evidence that relationships and men like that DO exist. Whether it’s via my algorithm or what I see at work. I think it’s about balancing out the toxicity of the relationship world we see displayed on our screens. To help keep us trusting and holding out for the love we’re truly seeking.

And I think that’s what I’m trying to say. TV shows us dysfunction because it sells. Societal pressure tells us marriage = success. But the truth? Surely the only thing worth chasing is a relationship that feels right for you. And that might involve getting married and a big white wedding… or it might not. And I don’t think it bloody matters!

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What is my point?!

So do I have a neat point here? Not really. But maybe we don’t need one. Maybe we just need to feel less alone for questioning marriage. The Other Way isn’t about rejecting it or any of those traditional milestones outright. It’s about questioning what doesn’t make sense to you and having the guts to choose yourself over the noise.

I’d love to know what you think. Do you want marriage? Do you want to be a wife? Do you think people are giving less sh*ts about a weddings and marriage these days? Feeling less alone in our thoughts is something I love to promote in ‘the other way’ so I invite you to share in the comments.

P.S if you’re reasing this thinking, “that’s me, but I’m questioning my whole life and career too,” then that’s the work I do. I help childfree by choice women stuck in the golden handcuffs of corporate find the freedom and meaning they’re actually craving. Read more here.

And it’s not the heavy, anchoring kind of weight that’s holding me back. It’s more like an electronic tag keeping me behind an invisible wall. Not that I’ve ever worn one of course but it’s what I imagine it to be like. Staring at the wide open freedom in front of me but unable to step into it. Because I know the consequences of breaking the conditions.

It’s not the first time I’ve felt this resistance. I doubt it’s a new frustration for you either. And nearly always showing up when you’re trying to step into the big life you say you want for yourself.

When you can see the vision. You know the ‘other way’ life you’re working towards. You’ve started taking the steps and maybe even put money behind it. And yet… you keep dragging your heels. You shrink inwards. Hiding. Not wanting to attract attention.

Despite this keeping you safe … you can’t ignore the ache that you’re settling for less.

This is the half-life. Existing in the in-between. Not fully dead but not fully alive either.

I realte this back to the ‘limbo like’ feeling of home I talked about last week. Because I don’t think your location is solely responsible for making us feel this way…

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I’m a leader not a physcic

Despite lighting the dark path of ‘the other way’, it doesn’t mean I’m never scared to step out of the light. Or away from the safety of the ways we all know. I still catch myself trying to ‘fit in’ with a world that makes zero sense to me inside. Because the future IS uncertain and unknown.

But after a week of hiding in hermit mode, I felt the familiar tightning of my shell. So it was time to crawl myself back out of it again.

Although I also want to disclaim that listening to the pull to hibernate is very allowed! This isn’t a post about discipline and consistency because well…go and follow a business Substack for that! As women we’re cyclical, we’re not supposed to be ‘on’ all the time. But there is that point in that cycle where it’s time to go around again and to stop hiding.

When I’m teetering like this I actually get slower. Which might sound counter intuitive when you want to ‘push’ forwards. But I get quieter and go inwards. I journal when my head feels too busy to meditate. Yoga to try and move and shift my energy. I also use oracle cards to prompt some self speculation.

And this week I pulled the ‘crumbling card’ - What are you clinging onto in fear of nothing taking its place?

And suddenly I saw it. The reason why I STILL feel in this ‘half- life’ state.

The fear of being truly alone and nobody else coming in to join me if I keep rejecting the status quo.

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So how does this physicaslly show up?

• It’s clinging to my part time job and not leading as a coach and creator. It’s fun and it gives me financial security… yes. But it also offers social acceptance when people ask me what I do.

• I’m clinging when I edit my social media stories and caveat a single Instagram caption ten times before feeling safe enough to post it. Frustration about not being able to articulate the fire of my truth onto a Substack page.

• I’m clinging when I moan about house prices and cost of living like everyone else. Instead of putting my energy into a business that will allow me to be financially free and not have to count my trolley as I go.

• I’m clinging on dates. Trying to be palatable and more accepted. To be the ‘cool girl’ that’s low drama and maintenance.

• I cling when I don’t talk about my dreams and ambition. So I don’t sound too much, too delusional, too stupid or …just making people too damn uncomfortable around me.

Because belonging feels safer than sticking out. As humans staying safe is programmed subconsciously into our system. We die in the wild if we’re alone.

Which by the way is another reason why capitalism and the system makes no bloody sense! Glorifying individualism over community and collaboration.

Capitalism thrives on us keeping our heads down, ticking the boxes, following the rules. Work the job you hate, chase the house you can’t afford, buy the things that don’t fill the void and don’t you dare question if the whole game is rigged.

But belonging to it feels safer than asking if it even makes sense. Safer than being the one to say out loud: this is broken.

The witch wound

The witch wound is a trauma buried deep in our psyche. Over 300 years 40–60,000 people were executed for so called ‘witchcraft’. No wonder there’s a collective memory in our bodies that fears persecution. Fears sticking out and being burned for it. Fears saying too much or shining too brightly and bringing attention to yourself.

It’s what keeps us small, hidden and afraid.

It’s in me. It’s in you. It’s in so many of us.

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But this fake ‘fitting in’ builds up inside

Living back with my parents in my home town and being surrounded by people trying to tick the traditional boxes… I stick out.

And maybe you know this feeling too. When you can’t speak honestly about what’s on your mind because people think you’re weird or raise a confused eyebrow at you.

It’s safer to shut up. It’s safer to ‘belong’. But it’s also so soul sucking and this half life just isn’t enough.

Here’s the paradox: clinging to belonging keeps you and me “safe” but it also keeps us stuck.

It keeps us circling in procrastination and putting off the career dreams or business ideas we say we want. It silences us when we most want to speak. It shrinks us into playing small and settling for lives we never consciously chose. And staying small doesn’t give us the belonging we’re aching for.

Anything built on shaky ground will crumble

And the ground is starting to shake for me.

By not shouting loudly enough about the truths I feel at my core. Like how the matrix is keeping us all stuck and conforming to chase interests that aren’t even ours. Or how childfree by choice women need to be seen and celebrated HARD!

How I don’t have all the answers but there’s enough evidence to start questioning the ‘rules’.

Because if I keep pretending that I’m happy with this half-life. Happier fitting in.

The rumble of the earthquake beneath me will never go away.

And I’ll never find my people and place in the world where I finally feel like I belong.

One of my favourite books talks about the power of discomfort and how it can shine a huge light on exactly where we need to move.

So this is me choosing authenticity

So here I am, messy and imperfect and scared and posting this anyway. Determined to show up fully and as authentically as me as I can be.

Crying as I write because I know it’s FINALLY time.

Time to stop clinging to false belonging and lovingly encourage myself through the sticky mud of resistance. Time to be the one who sticks out even more than I already do. Time to be the one who shouts loudly that this world isn’t working, and there has to be another way.

Because even though I don’t have all the answers, leaders don’t help people by blending in. Leaders don’t stay silent. They speak up with what they believe in.

And even if my voice wobbles, even if I’m scared and it feels safer to stay hidden — I can’t.

Not anymore.

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Your invitation

So if you’re reading this and nodding. If you feel this alien, limbo-like, half-life unbelonging too. If you’ve been feeling the ground rumble beneath you then ask yourself this: what am I clinging on to?

We know that fear holds us back but it’s asking yourself what is it you’re actually scared of.

And then ask yourself: what would I gain if I let it go?

Because the belonging you’re craving won’t come from blending in. It comes from being you.

And you don’t have to lead a community like I’ve chosen to but I truly hope you want to be the leader of your own life at least.

And you’re not alone!

That’s why I founded ‘The Other Way’. To help others feel seen and comforted that they aren’t in the dark by themselves.

And the only way to FIND more people who truly make you feel like you belong is to show up as yourself.

I’ve recently launched a (free!) and intimate community group on Skool. It’s a space where we can actually say the things out loud without feeling like the crazy one at the table. So if you ARE looking for a safe space to connect with other women who are walking ‘the other way’ in life too then email me lindseyjanegordon@gmail.com with an intro as to why you would like to join and I’ll send an invitation link.

There’s only 3 spaces left and I’m capping the first (free) membership round to just 10.

Anyway, back to Norfolk! This was the first time I’d actually gone to visit her in her new(ish) life there. She left London three or four years ago with a family she nannied and cooked for. And life lifes doesn’t it, so 4 years have passed without any of us really realising it.

It was such a joy to see it though. With her boyfriend, with her circle of friends, her routines and her favourite beaches. She was settled, grounded…happy. And I realised… I don’t think I have that where I currently live.

But then instead of sadness, I felt this wave of curiousness. Questioning if I even wanted this ‘grounded-ness’ for myself?

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This Limbo Thing

I moved back to my ‘home’ town after 15 years away. But despite being surrounded by family and old friends, it feels like I’ve only half unpacked. Half committed. One foot in, one foot out. In transit. Like I’m STILL waiting for something to begin even though it’s been 4 years since I returned already.

I ask myself whether that’s my own fault. For sitting on the sidelines. Not prepared to go ‘all in’. Maybe I just need to exhale and sink myself all the way into the seat. And to stop perching awkwardly on the edge.

Maybe it’s just commitment in general that vI have issues with?

But. There’s no part of me that wants to ‘settle’ here full time so why force it?

And maybe there will never be that place? Maybe not even Paris? A place where my whole body changes. Where it makes no logical sense for my cells to feel like they’ve rearranged themselves for the better but I feel alive there in a way I just don’t here.

And much like my knowing to spend more time in the ‘city of lights’… I trust the same sense of knowing about not making Somerset my full time home. At least not right now,

Maybe you’ll never settle?

Maybe Paris won’t last forever either? And maybe it will only have to be for a few months a year to feel ‘home’ enough?! But also, isn’t that allowed? For home to be seasonal and not fixed? Again, being ‘the other way’ minded here… there aren’t any ‘rules’ or a box that ‘home’ has to fit into.

Because I’ve always had itchy feet. I’ve always been moving. Peter Pan syndrome. The black sheep who never quite rooted herself.

Does it matter how long you spend somewhere? Maybe that feeling just isn’t meat for all of us. And to learn to embrace and be OK with that? With being more nomadic and having higher needs for variety over stability?

I had a similar epiphany about ‘resisting being myself’ on my treadmill yeaterday. Realising how I’ve been lying to myself and this community about quitting corporate at 34. Because it was actually 21.

My first ‘real world’ grad role in a medical legal company that I walked away from in less than 12 months. Remembering how much happier I was in my seasonal, hospitality and tourism work for the 5 years that followed. And how I STILL forced myself back into corporate culture for another 8 bloody years after that!

So I don’t think this whole ‘quitting corporate’ thing is a midlife crisis or awakening at all. It was something that was never meant for me and I just refused to listen before.

Where have YOU repeated patterns in your life that are simply a part of you rather than something that needs ‘fixing’ or fitting in’ to?

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Relationships and Anchors

Younger me used to think that if I met the right person, then home would ‘find’ me instead. Maybe merging into someone else’s life would hand me my own?

Also, doesn’t the saying go that someone CAN ‘feel like home?’ I can’t speak from the other side of course, as someone who’s nearly always been single and doubts she’s ever truly been in love. I can’t help my scepticism though.

I DO believe in finding ‘home’ within yourself though. To be centred in your own heart, body and your nervous system first.

And maybe my version of ‘home’ might not include living with a partner at all?

Maybe Home chooses us?

The other thing I loved about Fiona’s life in Norfolk was how she never actually chose it for herself. It was her job that took her there, reluctantly at first and away from her friends and familiarity of London. Covid convinced her bosses to escape to the coutryside.

And to the kind of bum-fuk middle of nowhere where there’s about 10 houses on a single track! But that’s also where she met her now boyfriend, literally landing on eachothers doorsteps. No swiping or searching needed.

So sometimes home finds us instead. So we don’t need to worry about ‘feeling it’ or not feeling it. Maybe if we just let go of the control of finding it… the universe will take us there instead?

Permission to Want Different

So maybe I will live in fifty places over my lifetime? Maybe in two places at once? At only 38, I’ve lived across 6 countries already. But who actually cares and what does it matter anyway?

For Fiona, the answer is Norfolk. For me, it’s the longing to spend more of my year in Paris. And if Paris stops working, I’ll move again. Because why not?

I think it’s also important to say I don’t think happiness lives in a place. And whilst longing for Paris I’m not wishing this Somerset chapter away.

But I DO trust the pull to leave. To accept your desires. To stop forcing yourself into a version of home that’s logical or only makes sense to everyone else.

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The Other Way

If you don’t feel grounded where you are. If you look around and wonder why other people seem so rooted and you don’t. Maybe it’s just because your version of home is still out there waiting for you.

Or maybe your version of home is never one place. Maybe it’s a series of them.

Either way, there’s nothing ‘wrong’ with you.

Just go find it. Let it find you. Go make it. Go live in the places that make your body lights up in. Whether that’s in one country or fifty different cities.

Because home isn’t about permanence. I think it’s about peace. It’s about aliveness. It’s about a belonging.

But whatever you do… don’t stay somewhere that doesn’t feel right.

P.S. Talking of environments. I wrote this Substack in my favourite café within 1hr 30. At home I can piss about with it for HOURS! Again, the importance of ENVIRONMMENT and the impact it can have of you. So please! Don’t be afraid to move, change, and experiment!

Now I’ve found my creative place again and after an impromptu August off… I’ll be posting regularly again into your inboxes.

And the first 5 to 10… maybe even 15 times I kept stumbling over my tongue. Not because I didn’t know. But because this community always felt too hard to explain in exact words. Too niche. Too absurd!

Too much like I was saying, “Yeah, hi, I live with my parents, it’s for people who are childfree by choice, who don’t like their job and oh yes, I think capitalism needs to do one but… I also want to build a business around all of that somehow. To help people own their unique path rather than crucify themselves as the black sheep of the family?”

But as the week went on and the more time I spent around the right kind of people… it stopped feeling awkward and weird. People asked more because they were genuinely curious.

And so it’s inspired me to finally explain what The Other Way actually means to me and for you and why I show up in your inboxes and on your grids.

‘The Other Way’ isn’t about labels.

It's not all about being child-free, though that’s part of it.

It’s not about living with your parents, though yes, that’s my current living situation.

It’s not about quitting your job or being single forever either.

The simplist way I can describe the energy of The Other Way is this;

It’s about looking at how 90% of the world is doing life and asking…does this even make sense to me and do I want it for myself?

It’s about questioning the default settings.

It’s that feeling you get when you look around at your friends, your colleagues, Instagram, and the adulting path we’ve all been taught to walk… and thinking - “I don’t want this.” Or at the very least… “There has to be another way because I don’t want to settle for it!”

Especially now.

In a world that feels like it’s breaking politically, economically, existentially. With AI getting more intelligent far quicker than any of us would like to admit. Where the systems we once trusted don’t feel stable or safe anymore. With crazy cost of living prices and rising inequality and poverty… following the way it’s always been done just doesn’t feel safe anymore.

We are living through an era that demands questioning. And for those of us who’ve been criticising ourselves as the ‘black sheep’ or too difficult to please, this is your sign that you’re not alone and that your flock are right here.

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‘The Other Way’ is letting go of the old definitions of success.

It’s this longing for more from life… but not in the way we’ve been sold it before.

Someone asked me recently; “But how can you coach others when you’re not where you want to be yet?” And I had to laugh because if success means a high-paying job, moving out of my parents and being outwardly successful then I’ve ‘been there, done that’ three times over.

And it was a version of ‘success’ that didn’t mean anything to me.

It’s for those who followed the map but didn’t end up where they actually wanted to go. It’s the growing realisation that the things you’re ‘supposed’ to want don’t feel right for you, no matter how ‘perfect’ it might look to others.

And it’s the courage to start asking yourself… then what is?

‘The Other Way’ isn’t about shaming wealth

Let me be clear: I like money. I want more of it. I want beautiful holidays, to wear nice things and to have my own place again one day. I want options. I want autonomy. I want abundance.

We need money in this capitalistic world. The issue is only when it starts owning you.

Since walking away from finance, my income’s changed and my lifestyle’s shifted. But in that trade I’ve gained possibility. No more asking myself every Sunday night if this was all there is.

It’s not about rejecting money it’s about refusing to let it trap you in a life that doesn’t fit anymore.

‘The Other Way’ is deeply personal.

I’ve already said it’s not about labels. It’s also not about ticking certain boxes to just belong to a different, more unconventional club.

My ‘Other Way’ looks like this;

• It’s not having children, even if the world says I should.

• It’s choosing to downgrade my lifestyle temporarily so I can upgrade my freedom.

• It’s letting go of money’s hold over me. Keeping me trapped in a job that I hated and had no meaning.

• It’s understanding that “more” doesn’t always mean better. That very often… more means less.

• It’s about not settling for living on weekends and holidays and spinning on the hamster wheel.

You ‘Other Way’ might look different. In fact it probably does. Because you’re going against your traditions or expectations and breaking free of the boxes you feel like you’ve been trapped in.

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‘The Other Way’ is also grey.

Whatever your circumstances are right now it doesn’t define you. Whether it’s being single or living at home. It’s just what life looks like right now. It doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to change. In fact, the only certainty we have in life IS change.

It’s wherever you are whilst building a life with more purpose. More truth. More meaning. Less pretending. Less pressure. Less performance for others.

What I mean by grey-

• Yes, I live with my parents. No, I don’t want to do that forever. I actually want to live in Paris next but I don’t think it will be forever.

• Yes, I’m single and embracing this chapter. No, I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. But I’m not settling for someone who isn’t right either.

• Yes, I work part-time and run an online business. No, I’m not making six figures but I have the aspiration to.

• Yes I’m childfree by choice but no, I can’t promise you I won’t fall in love with someone who already has them. I won’t seek them out but life happens in weird ways sometimes.

You probably have your own unique contradictions and you’re ALLOWED them too.

The Other Way is about preparing for what’s coming and not clinging to what’s collapsing.

AI is changing everything. Fast.

And at that mastermind, I learnt just how quickly the world of work is shifting. Not in 10 years, but in 2 to 5. And while I don’t want to fearmonger, I also don’t want to lie. Many jobs we know won’t exist for much longer. (Read more here if you think you're ready!)

So wouldn’t you rather be ahead of the curve and choosing something different now?! Rather than being forced to retrain and stuck in another job you hate? Whether that’s working for yourself or doing a job that gives you more satisfaction?

To take back more control and step off the hamster wheel voluntarily. To keep peddling but at your own pace and actually moving… not just circling?

And if you’re child-free, single and without the traditional responsibilities, this is your reminder that you’ve never had more freedom than you do right now to start choosing differently. Not just stay ‘thinking’ things don’t make any sense.

This is the time to experiment and to trust yourself and the niggles that won’t leave your stomach.

So what is The Other Way?

It’s a mindset.
It’s a soft rebellion.
It’s a refusal to settle.

It’s not a label.
It’s not a checklist.
It’s a choice to look around and say:

“Maybe this isn’t for me.”
“Maybe there’s more.”
“Maybe I don’t have to keep doing life the way everyone else is.”

It’s choosing your truth over expectations.
It’s walking your own way even if no one else gets it yet.

So no, The Other Way isn’t just about being single or childfree or opting out of corporate life. Those are just branches of the same tree.

The closest I’ve come? (seriously… no inuendo intended there!) Watching post-watershed shows on Channel 4. Pro tip: maybe don’t watch the threesome scene in the new series of The Couple Next Door with your mum on the sofa!

But thanks to TikTok, I stumbled across this thing they call audio erotica. Quinn is basically an app with A LOT of spicy audio stories. But it’s not exactly an audio book! In fact, it’s more like audio ‘chapters’ or very VERY short stories!

As I said, I’d never tried anything like this before but I felt this curiosity. And if you’ve been here a while, you’ll know I’ve explored these feelings before. I wasn’t eligible for a free trial, but I thought well, for the price of two coffees? Why not try it for a month?!

I’ve got to be honest though when I first hit play, I felt a wave of shame and embarrassment. It wasn’t even conscious at first. More like a shudder. Like something in my body reacting before my mind could catch up with it. I think it was deep, engrained shame that comes from growing up in a very prudish family. (Again, see above and feeling awfully awkward with mum!)

And then there’s the goddamn patriarchy of course, making us feel like terrible women for even being curious in this department. So If you’re squirming even reading this, please know it’s absolutely fricking normal!

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Sensuality isn’t shameful!

But thanks to the amazing Sophie Regan and her Reclamation of Her programme, I now understand the power and benefits of a woman who leans into her sensuality and pleasure. And I don’t just mean in a bedroom sense either. I’m talking about how you move through the world. The way you walk, what you eat, the clothes you wear, the sunsets you allow yourself to slow down and feel.

It's given me the audacity to show up in your inboxes and social media ‘stories to even talk about things like this. To help give you the permission to invite more sensuality into your life and wellbeing. To spread the strength of it.

Yes the group programme with Sophie gave me the permission to feel turned on. But it wasn’t the first time I’d ‘felt’ it. Like when I went swimming topless in the sea in Greece. That ‘zing’ you feel deep in your belly? Yeah…THAT! I think that’s why it’s called “turn on”. Because it’s like someone’s flicked a switch.

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But what does this have to do with 'The Other Way'?

Why am I even telling you all this? Nope, it’s not because Quinn are paying me but disclaimer…I wouldn’t turn it down if they did!

I’ll be writing more about what I’ve come to realise ‘the other way’ actually is next week. Spoiler: it’s not about whether you’re single, child-free, living with your parents, or have quit your job. It’s not about ‘labels’ at all.

Ultimately though, I think it’s about the refusal to settle.

I’m sharing because I know a lot of you reading this are single and probably have been for a long time. Not because you don’t want love but because you refuse to settle for something that doesn’t feel right. Who, like me, probably have behavioural history of seeking out love and intimacy in-between. In… let’s just say… pretty destructive, self-depreciating ways.

I used to seek out ONS in my twenties and early thirties. S*x that was anything but sensual or intimate in the way I was craving. 95% of it fuelled by vodka and Jäger (aka blackout juice!) I don’t hate that version of myself anymore though. Because I know she just wanted love and affection (I wrote about that here.)

So please don’t beat yourself up for your younger self’s habits either. Shame just pushes you further away from what you’re actually seeking.

Ask yourself what you want in AND out of the bedroom?

But what I’ve also come to realise is that … despite all that so-called “action”… I never actually learned what I liked in bed. I never felt safe enough to explore it. To say out loud the things that lived in a tiny corner at the back of my head.

Even when I’ve dated, I’ve never really known what turns me on. Making my first priority someone else’s pleasure over my own. Too busy masking my own needs and trying to be the ‘right’ kind of girlfriend instead.

The point is , if we’ve never had a safe space to practice, how the hell are we meant to know what ‘does’? That’s why I think Quinn is such a brilliant, gentle place to start. Not just for discovering what excites you in bed but what dynamics excite you outside of it too.

I’ve only been using the app a couple of weeks but I’m already blown away. By the relationship balance I thought I wanted, versus what actually sets me on fire. The type of relationship I’ve always ended up attracting, repeating patterns and how… it’s all starting to make sense as to why they never bloody worked!

In fact I think the universe is pissing itself right about now. Thinking thank bloody god she realises she wants and needs a strong masculine man at last…and… isn’t ashamed to admit it! (Actually… most people in my life have probably wanted to shout the obvious!)

Whatever works for you

And just to say, if you’re more of a visual person, that’s absolutely okay too. It’s about getting curious about what works for you. Whether it’s words, voices, visuals, or a combination of everything, there’s no one “right” way to connect with your sensuality.

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So yes, this post is about the benefits of audio corn…

…But more than that, it’s about self-intimacy. About sensuality. I’m writing this to help singles connect to their desires without shame. To encourage women to connect to that inner flame without a partner because that’s when your power truly feels undeniable.

I bought this A4 print to put on my wall nearly 2 years ago. Why?! I think I just wanted to embody her. (Maybe minus the socks though!) Taking action on her dreams whilst being butt naked in bed and owning it. I smiled to myself last week because I realised…wow…now I see ‘me’.)

But it’s also about opening your heart and your mind to more.

It’s about reminding you to follow those curiosities to take you to those desires you didn’t even know were there. To breaking free from the box the Matrix wants to keep you in.

And anything that fuels your drive, your fire, your truth… is worth talking about in my opinion.

Because once that fire is lit up, you stop chasing scraps. You stop settling. You start choosing what feels good in bed and in life.

To help you keep walking ‘the other way’ in the direction that’s best for you …again and again.

You can find her on YouTube and via her book; Discovering Your Identity : A Rebirth From Interracial Struggle.

I was fascinated to hear how Urmi found the courage to go her own way in life, especially from within two deeply traditional cultures, where expectations for women can feel particularly rigid.

But what surprised me even more was just how similar our stories and inner struggles have been, despite coming from very different backgrounds. It was a powerful reminder that this quiet call to live life ‘the other way’ is heard so widely and all over the world.

We talk about:

Permission to Be Who You Are
Giving yourself the grace and space to step away from roles you’ve been assigned and into a life that actually feels like yours.

Walking Away from Tradition
What it really takes to say no to cultural expectations and predefined milestones, especially as a woman navigating family pressures and heritage.

Belonging and Being the Black Sheep
The emotional weight of feeling like the odd one out and the imporatnce of therefore… finding your people!

This episode is for anyone who’s ever felt hemmed in by tradition, or quietly questioning whether the path they’re on truly belongs to them.

Urmi reminds us that freedom often begins with a whisper and that the courage to listen to it will look after you and your future happiness.

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If you’d like to be on ‘the Other Way’ podcast to share your own personal journey then I’d love to host you! Get in touch via email lindseyjanegordon@gmail.com

Things heated up even faster between us when we realised how similar our unconventional life paths had been (and not just sharing a middle name!) and how strong our desires were to create an equally creative, meaningful future.

As well as being a comforting example of how you can live life on your own terms, she’s also a coach, writer and expert, particularly on the power of intuition.

Beyond her ‘other way’ story we talk about:

• The Power of Intuition
  How tuning into your quiet inner voice can guide you through uncertainty and toward authenticity, even when it contradicts societal norms.

• Deconstructing the “Right” Path
  Offering permission to question whether those traditional milestones are genuinely yours… or just ‘post-it notes’ handed to you by others.

• Redefining Purpose and Success
  We help remind you that purpose doesn’t have to be fixed or career-based, it can be rooted in creativity, freedom, and presence.

• How to Start Your Own “Other Way” Journey
  Practical, TANGIBLE tips include journaling, daily emotional check-ins, embodiment practices like yoga, and building supportive connections.

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Carly opens up about what it means to live authentically and building the courage to live “the other way” and a life aligned with YOUR truth over external approval and expectations.

I think this is my favourite episode to date so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!!

*Jump to 3mins 22 seconds to get straight to the Carly magic!*

If you’d like share your ‘other way’ journey then I’d love to showcase it on the podcast! Please get in touch lindseyjanegordon@gmail.com

I sighed and smiled. Because yes. I absolutely was.

This news article reminded me of the pointlessness I saw in it all at the end. Pushing emails around, meeting deadlines and reducing regulator fines. Essentially tick boxes. To show the bank doing the “right thing” but not really achieving anything. Not really. “Here’s all the paperwork that shows we technically did what we were supposed to.” That was the main purpose of the role. Do enough to keep the money in the banks pockets rather than the regulators.

But I didn’t think this way when I started.

When I was chasing promotions, bonuses and unpaid overtime so we could meet targets and appease leadership. I scaled that corporate ladder all the way from London to Singapore. It gave me the kind of life I used to dream of. The high salary, the nice apartment and being able to call myself an Associate Director in finance.

I’m grateful for that experience. Truly I am. But now, when I zoom out and look back, all I can think is … none of it really meant anything at all?!

So many of us are stuck.

Good salary. Impressive CV. Caught in the cliché of the golden handcuffs.

The idea of leaving? Terrifying. What else is going to pay me this much? The alternatives of charity work, yoga teaching, we write them off as “unrealistic” because they don’t come with six-figure comfort and in THIS economy…you bloody well need it!

So how did I unshackle myself?

I get it. It took me months to make my decision to leave behind my perfect life in Singapore. But in the end I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep showing up to a job that felt so empty. Even if it did pay for my Aperol Spritzes and bougee yoga membership. There was no purpose. No meaning. Just… hollow productivity in a machine that profited from debt and people’s hardship.

But I have to be honest, I left on the premise that my coaching business was going to be one of those online success stories with consistent 10k months. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

But I needed that belief to make the leap. I needed to believe I could still earn money doing something I actually gave a sh*t about.

And maybe that’s the real crux of it. Nobody wants to stop making money, we just want to make it in a way that feels good.

And the sad truth is that for most of us…. we laugh at the possibility.

Call me crazy but my belief is still as strong today. The belief that my ‘making a difference’ business dream will still succeed. It’s what motivates me to get up every morning and show up in your inboxes and make podcasts and post on social media. To keep coming up with new ideas on how I can help others, whilst simultaneously maintaining my bank account and providing my freedom.

But it’s not the money or the ‘boss babe’ validation I chase anymore.

Lindsey in 2021 would probably have never left Asia or finance if she thought 4 years later she’d still be living with her parents and knew her business had ‘failed’.

Being cliche again here…it’s the jouney that made her realise her freedom and happiness was in her detachment from it. Both the money and the flashy life it funded.

My journey

Over the last four years, I’ve launched a coaching business and closed it. I started an online community before falling into burnout and questioning my entire existence. I put the handcuffs back on and contracted in finance for 18 months. Before finally shutting down my LinkedIn and no longer secretly “open to work”. I trained as a yoga teacher but decided to never teach a class. I lived in Paris for 2 months and I’m still determined to move there. I’ve written, recorded podcasts and sporadically show up in your inboxes and social media feeds when I can. I got a part time job as a wedding coordinator paying a quarter of what I used to earn.

But I’m 10x happier than the Lindsey I left behind and I’m so thankful to my 34 year old self who had the guts to book the flights and move home.

Life isn’t actually that different

Yes, I live with my parents instead of in a sleek apartment downtown. But I still have space (shout out to the garden shed where I write this). I still have my beach walks (Burnham, not Tanjong but still!). I still go out for coffee and croissants. I still do yoga. Still journal. Still run. I still have my wonderful Singapore Special rescue who makes my heart burst most mornings!

The aesthetics have changed.

The essence hasn’t.

That’s what no one tells you. You’re not giving up everything when you uncuff yourself. You’re just letting go of the gloss. The shiny illusion of “having it all.”

How does freedom feel now?

No more spending 40+ hours a week doing something I don’t believe in. Instead, I get to work part-time in an industry I don’t adore but get to spend the rest of my energy creating, writing, building something with puprose and actual meaning.

Do I believe in lavish weddings? Not really. Would I elope myself? Abso-fricking-lutely! But it’s a job I can leave at the door. A job that also fills up my cup seeing actual human faces smile and knowing I’ve been a part of it.

We’re so scared to give up the “life we built”. For me that was the yoga studios, the brunches, the high-rise views and the job title that made my parents proud. But if you really audit your life, how much of that are you actually giving up?

Strip away the Instagram filter. Remove the expectations and comparisons. If nobody was looking at your life, what are you left with?

If I won the lottery tomorrow, would I change everything? Well I’d live out my Paris dream, relaxing with a better view from my apartment balcony. But whilst I’m writing this, I’m listening to my nieces on the trampoline next door, watching their bobbing heads rise over the garden fence. It’s a beautiful day here in Somerset,so after I publish this I’m going to sit out on the garden furniture with my mum and enjoy a cold glass of Rose in the sun.

And day to day - I’d still journal. Still write. Still practice yoga and enjoy my coffee, croissants and cacao. All the things that fill me up and make me who I really am.

How to free yourself?

If you’re stuck in the golden handcuffs right now please know it’s not about burning everything to the ground.

But you CAN start with asking yourself:

• What am I really scared of losing?

• Who am I doing all this for?

• And what would my life look like if no one else was watching?

It’s about recognising that freedom doesn’t always come in an apartment with a view or a job title, but in the quiet moments that align with your values, your joy, and YOUR truth.

The version of me that once craved the prestige now craves more peace. And I’ve learned that even without the gloss, life can still be full …. sometimes even fuller. It might not be easy, linear, or Instagram-worthy, but it can be YOURS.

And sometimes the dream doesn’t have to be a skyline view in Paris … it’s a sunny garden in Somerset, a glass of rosé with your mum, and the feeling that you finally came home to yourself.