Letting life slip through the cracks

I'm feeling deep

I have spent the past few weeks moving into a new home. The move has made me incredibly sentimental.

Since leaving home at 18, I’ve moved around a lot; from college to sharehouses. I feel like I have lived a hundred different lives in this time. I swear years in your 20s are equivalent to dog years; there are just so many huge life changes in such a small amount of time.

In this most recent move, I moved in with Henry. As I’m sure most of you can attest to, the process of relocating is stressful and in between the chaos of packing boxes and trying to get my shit together (turns out I have a lot of stuff), I kind of forgot to smell the roses and appreciate the new phase of life that I unknowingly entered.

My new neighbourhood. It is truly so special.

I am a naturally nostalgic person, and to be honest, my lack of acknowledgement of this new chapter took me by surprise (10-year-old me would be freaking out about the fact that I had a place with a boyfriend). It reinforced this feeling that I have had recently, where I feel like life is slipping through my fingers. All these special moments are passing me by, and I haven’t been able to fully grasp them and appreciate them.

This slightly weird realisation made me happy and sad at the same time. I am exactly where I have dreamed of being for a very long time, but I am not quite sure how to hold onto it, and that’s … scary?

I am 25 now and this is the first year that I have actually felt kind of like an adult. When people talk about being an “adult” it usually has negative connotations but for me, I am really enjoying the freedom that comes with being older. Sure, it’s not ideal having to do my own taxes or worry about how much my heating is going to cost or weighing up whether I can afford to go to the doctor for the 100th time this year because I am scared I have a tumour in my pinky finger (hypochondriacs will relate). BUT it’s pretty fun being able to do whatever you want, whenever you want. I digress.

The weird thing about this newfound feeling of adulthood has made me go, where has the time gone?????? I suddenly realised that I had hit all these milestones but never once took the time to go, ‘You are living the life you always wanted’, and that’s because I still feel like I have a long way to go.

I recently read a tweet that said “I feel like I am constantly worrying about the next part of my life without realising that I’m right in the middle of what I used to look forward to.” I felt this in my bones.

I think a byproduct of hustle culture is that it’s easy to get swept up in the desire for "more” - this desire is sometimes mistaken for ambition or motivation - which eclipses the defining moments of our lives because we’re constantly thinking “what’s next?”

By no means have I reached my “end goal,” but my twenties (so far) have taught me that there may never be a moment when I have everything I want—and maybe the key to happiness is knowing that and realising that the goalposts are always shifting…. (do I sound like a spiritual wanker or is this actually a good observation?)

I don’t have nearly enough money in my bank account. Our new house is so old that the power cuts out if we run too many appliances at once. And the hot water stops working after five minutes. But I’ve never laughed more or been more in love. And I get to smell the ocean when I wake up! And I love my job, which keeps me fulfilled and challenged. Where I get to work alongside talented, creative people and make TV for a living. Then I come home and get to write a blog that barely anyone reads but fills my cup. My life may not be enviable to most but I am sooooo happy!

There’s a corny but very fitting quote from John Lennon in Beautiful Boy that reads, “Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans.”

I am really finding joy in the little things…