The next chapter

I wasn't going to write a New Year's/end of the 2010s post. I'd decided that it would be cliché and my words would be trite. And then I decided to write it anyway.

So here it is, my last blog post of not only the year, but the decade. I can't guarantee genuine words of wisdom, but I can certainly guarantee my attempts at it.

My experience of the last decade can be summed up by the below:

I'm happy!
I'm sad!
I'm fine.
I'm happy!
I'm sad!
You know what? I'm growing. I understand life will have its ups and downs but through it all, I know I'm going to be ok.

Or maybe it was like:

Life is FUN
Life is BORING
LIFE IS NOT FUN
Life is VERY AVERAGE
Life is PRETTY GREAT

And repeat.


A decade of monumental moments

The 2010s were standout for all the big, landmark events of my life. I graduated university, I lived in 3 different cities, had a number of jobs (some better than others), I traveled Europe and North America, attended numerous weddings, was a bridesmaid and welcomed 2 nieces and a nephew. There have been some really hard moments too, and it's all of those, the rapturous and the torturous that have shaped me as a person.


A decade of friendships

I have made some dear, dear friends in the 2010s (and then, of course, there are the friends I already knew). Some I've only made within the past few years, some I've lost contact with, some live thousands of miles away and some live a 5 minute walk from me and yet I know I wouldn't be the person I am today without them. I can't name everyone, but if you consider us have ever been friends - even if we haven't seen each other in years - please know that I treasure you and what you have brought to my life.

A decade of learning 

The growth you go through from your early 20s to early 30s is kind of staggering. I know I'm sounding like someone who is 81, not 31, but when people say that your 20s is a journey of self-discovery, it's absolutely true. Who I was in 2010 to who I am in 2019 doesn't look radically different on the outside. I still look pretty similar, and I still like a lot of the same things. My character hasn't fundamentally changed. But my way of looking at the world, at others, and at myself has grown so much. I'm far more confident and more sure of my place in the world. More aware of my shortcomings and of my talents. I've matured. I'm still learning, and I'm aware of how much further I have to go. But I honestly think that one day I'll look back and say definitively this was the decade I learned and grew the most.


A decade of mystery

No, I didn't become an MI6 spy (or did I?), but the decade began with a question mark. I was in a happy little uni bubble, burying my head in the sand as to what would happen when I had to leave and face the real world. The bubble popped, of course, and real adulthood struck with a harsher blow than I expected. I've spent the last eight years making plans and then coming to terms with what actually happened (my plans, I've found, rarely work out in the way I've envisioned). I've tested careers, friendships, romance, dreams and often felt like I was stumbling in the dark, looking for something, or maybe somebody to lead me towards the exit. I've learned I'm not in control as much as I want to be - and that's a good thing. If life had worked out exactly as I wanted it, I wouldn't have done the things I've done, met the people I've met, or become the person I am today.

In some ways the decade is ending with a questions mark too. I have hopes and dreams for the 2020s, but I honestly don't know where I'll be in 2029. Married with kids? A bestselling author? Living on an alpaca farm? A combination of all three? I'm looking forward to finding out.

A look to the new decade

I'm honestly excited by what 2020 and beyond will bring. The fun and hope and excitement and love and beauty that's awaiting me. Of course there will be struggles and sadness too, but that's no reason not to hope. It's a fresh page, a clean slate and all of those other hackneyed sayings. But just because those phrases are tired, doesn't mean they aren't true.

Maybe your 2010s were marked by wonder, by tragedy, or by a little of both. Maybe you did everything you wanted to, or maybe there are things you desperately want but have yet to achieve. Take a deep breath and step into the new decade. I'll end this with a quote by obscure, indie author C.S. Lewis.

'There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind' 

A new year's hope

The last day of the year is a time for reflection, resolution and hope. As 2018 draws to an end, we begin to take stock of the past and look to the future and I, too, have been looking back at my year and considering my desires for 2019. While it's easy to become jaded, I think there's something special about taking a breath, getting some space and really taking time to think about the good, the bad and the ugly of the past year and then putting it behind you for a fresh new year. 

Reflection

2018 has gone by in the blink of an eye. For some of you it was a year of joy and for others, a year of hardship. Maybe your year, like mine, was a roller coaster of dizzying highs and crushing lows that had you holding on with white knuckles until it finally slowed down. 

While there were some huge moments that made up my 2018, I've been trying to remember how the smaller ones have shaped my year. Hanging out with friends in parks on a summer's day, discovering a pretty building in London I'd never seen before, laughing hysterically with my people from my Hub, recalling precious wisdom from a preach months later, that time I pushed through a run when I wanted to give up...

Life is coloured by the key events but it's the more insignificant ones that add the shading. It's easy to write off a year by remembering only the things that perhaps didn't go to plan, or rose-tint a year by remembering the things that did. No year is ever without it's bumps and no year is ever without it's delights, no matter how small those delights may be. It's by looking at the small, I get a clearer picture of the big. I see how I've grown, what I need to work on and what the things are that truly matter to me. 

This year I turned 30, I saw Taylor Swift in concert, I travelled to the USA, I attended a number of weddings, I ran a 10k, I started a new job, and I developed some deep, meaningful friendships. And that is to name but a few things! In some ways it's a been hard - a very hard - year, but when I look back, I know I've been blessed. 

Resolution

By now, almost everyone will have a New Year’s Resolution in mind. Even if you don’t believe in officially setting them (let’s face it, you’ll break them by 5^th January anyway), you might still have some things you want to achieve in 2019. Lose weight, eat more healthily, exercise more, learn a new language, go travelling, quit smoking – the list goes on. All ways we can improve ourselves; ways to become a better us. Because that’s what it’s about, really, this idea that we are not quite enough as ourselves. That on 1^st January you are chubby and lazy and unaccomplished but by next 31^st December – with enough willpower – you might (might) be a toned, wealthy, super traveller who’s fluent in Mandarin. Inevitably, this will not happen. Oh, but maybe next year – and the cycle continues.

There isn’t anything inherently wrong with wanting to improve yourself or using the new year to resolve do so. Quite the contrary, I believe we should always be moving forward and reaching for new goals. But often this resolution comes with a sense of dissatisfaction about ourselves. That just dropping that bit of weight, or by becoming more organised or by running that marathon – then, then we will be worth something. Then we can be proud of ourselves. But why can’t we be proud of ourselves as we are? Yes, maybe you didn’t achieve all you hoped for in 2018, but that doesn’t mean you are a failure.

Instead of thinking about the things you haven’t done, think about what you have. Maybe you’ve weathered a lot and have come out of it stronger. Or you volunteered every week. Or you deepened some friendships. Those aren’t insignificant things! Ok, maybe you’re not as fit as you like, or as well-read as you want to be. Improve that – but only if you want to. Don’t feel like you must be something more, don’t feel like you have to try to fit into a certain mould because you’ll be a ‘better’ you. You’re honestly enough as you are.

Let’s be kinder to ourselves this coming year.

Hope

Call it the naive Disney-fed optimist in me, but I can’t help springing into the New Year with anticipation. Perhaps it’s because of the aforementioned resolutions, but it also feels like a clean slate. That a fresh year brings fresh possibilities. That maybe this year will be exciting and adventurous, a year of blissful delights and dreams come true. Of course, life rarely turns out the way I want it to, and a year will always surprise me in one way or the other, for better or worse. Yet come December my mind will reset again to that of hopeful expectation. 

Christmas is the perfect time to restore the optimism I lost during the year. The Christmas story is about hope for the world, and it's something I'm trying to think about as I enter the next year. There's a couple of lines in the Christmas carol 'O Holy Night' which talk about this: 'a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn'. Often this world can feel weary. Politics are precarious, society fractured and the environment crumbling, and everything feels a bit fragile. Yet despite all that, there is still a hope for the world. As 2019 comes leaping in, we can cling to that hope and perhaps see new and glorious things happen this coming year. 

2018 may have been the best year, or the worst, but let's shake it off and look towards the new year with renewed hope in our hearts. 

Contentment in an age of discontent

Only a month ago the sun was out, the evenings were long and nature was in full bloom. Summer brought easy, relaxed living and a busy social schedule. Life can feel carefree and happy, and a little lazy, in the summer. But now autumn is here, the leaves are turning, the days are getting colder, and the smell of change is in the air. It's probably because I equate it with going back to school or uni, but there's something about autumn that makes me think that it's a fresh start. A shake-up, a drive to pursue my ambitions. A second New Year, if you will.

But with this desire for change comes a feeling of restlessness with how my life currently looks. It's not that I don't feel happy but sometimes - actually, rather often - I don't feel content. I took to the most valid, unbiased and trustworthy source in the world, the internet, to discover the difference between happiness and contentment. The internet tells me that happiness is transient, a fleeting high that can change with circumstances whereas contentment is a state of being. It's a mindset, an attitude that comes from knowing what you have, and being grateful and satisfied with that. It's one that I often struggle to have, especially when I look at all my dreams left unfulfilled and all the things I strive for only to get knocked back again.

'I'll be content once I move to London,' I thought once upon a time, when I was living in Gloucester and dissatisfied with my life. 'London is where I long to be. Yes, once I'm in London life will be fantastic and that's it - I will have reached peak contentment.'

Ha.

Naive, right? I thought this city was all I'd ever want and need and that I'd never want to be anywhere else. I love my life in London, truly I do, but it's real life and while often it is exciting and wonderful, it can be boring and frustrating. And occasionally I feel that old restlessness, that familiar yearning to shake my life up and do something different. Sometimes it's to quit life for 6 months and go and explore the world and sometimes it's as simple as cutting my hair. I just feel the need to do...something. I feel the need for my life to be different to how it currently is. And that, I believe, can sometimes be dangerous.

In this world we are fed on a contestant diet of 'more'. Earn more, achieve more, experience more, want more. Buy that new iPhone, go on that holiday, get in that relationship, just have a bit more stuff. Then you'll be happy. So you buy and buy and buy, and get and do and achieve, and yet somehow there is always something else. You're happy with that phone, until the new model comes out, and you really like that dress until it's out of fashion. That adventure was great but now you need the next one, and your relationship has lost its rose-coloured glow and you're bored. And so the cycle of 'more' continues and we are never satisfied.

So what does a life of being content really look like? And how do I make it happen? I don't have the answers yet, but I do have a few thoughts. Fasten your seat belts kids, it's going to be a bumpy and slightly confusing ride.

Contentment and ambition

As I ponder this question of how to live a life of contentment, I consider how my goals and dreams coincide with that. I am overflowing with dreams. Some I talk about openly and some to only a select few. Some lie dormant, bound by time or circumstances, and some have been pushed down by life's journey. A few are held in secret, a fragile little flame between only me and God. I occasionally wonder if having so many dreams means that I live my life in the future and lose sight of the present. That I might miss the beauty in the right now because I'm constantly thinking of what might be. And then when one dream is realised, I'll be thinking about the next thing instead of just enjoying what I've got.

Can you pursue and long for things, and still be content? The more I think about it, the more I think yes. It's good to have ambitions and goals. We are made to create, to love, to play, to bring our own unique flavour to the world. We should pursue them but at the same time, be mindful of what we currently have. Contentment isn't about not wanting things, it's about enjoying what you do have in the meantime.

Contentment and settling

Unfortunately, things don't just fall from the sky into your lap, you have to actively work for them. I want to keep up momentum, not get stuck in a comfort zone where I'm 'being content' but really I'm stuck in a rut or, worse, too afraid to go for what I want. It's easy to do, I think. It's easy to say that you're content with your life when really you have just settled. Knowing the difference between settling and being content can be tricky. I think it comes to down to whether you feel your life has meaning and hope even in the occasional monotony, or if life is just passing you by. Have you let your dreams die? Have you stopped even hoping because it doesn't look like it's ever going to happen? Then you've settled.

Be satisfied with your life but if there's something you really want - keep going for it. Don't let fear stop you. Don't ever settle for a mediocre, hum-drum life that's just ok when you could have a great one. You are worth so much more than that. You are good enough for the dreams that you hold most dear.

Contentment and faith

I was challenged by a preach I heard at the very start of the year. I can't remember the exact quote but to (very loosely) paraphrase, it was something along the lines of 'what if everything you were hoping for this year didn't happen. Would you still be content? Could you still praise God anyway?' That has been hugely challenging for me and something that I have thought about frequently throughout 2018 because for a lot of the year I'm not sure in all honesty I could say yes. It's still something I'm working on even now. So much of my contentment is in not necessarily in the things I have or lack materially but in the things that lie beyond my control. And it's sometimes hard to trust that God has these things in hand. I know He does, deep down, but when things aren't happening and your expectations are unmet and dreams unrealised it can be so difficult to stay content while keeping faith.

The Bible mentions the word 'content' a number of times. The most famous of which comes from Philippians 4:11 (ESV) - 'I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.' So it seems that contentment is a learned behaviour, rather than something that should come naturally. If contentment can be learned, then surely it's a process that can be mastered. Yet I think, for me, it won't just come by simply trying, but also by praying, worshiping and remembering what I've been given. Contentment comes when I sit back, take stock of my life and choose to see all the things I do have rather than all the things I don't.

This road to contentment is a journey I'm still on. It will probably be one I'm on for a while. Sometimes I may be able to say with utter confidence, 'yes, I'm content' and other times I may have a bit of a wobble. I may not have fully learned to be content, but I'm in the process. And that's something, I guess.

Facebore, Instaglam and that old chestnut comparison

I blame Bebo. It was the gateway drug. A place where you could talk to your friends, tell the world about yourself and upload low-quality photos all in one place? 17 year old me approved. It spiralled from there. Though I wasn't quite cool enough for Myspace, I made an account anyway, emo fringe and raccoon eyed profile picture unfortunately not included. And then came along this little site called Facebook and poor Bebo, once so beloved, was cast aside like the 2005 relic it has become. Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat - I got them all and slowly, before I knew it was really happening, I became addicted.

People always talk about social media addiction with a wry smile and an exasperated eye roll. It's a socially accepted 'addiction', like chocolate and caffeine, not a real addiction that will control you and mess up your life. I know I wasn't addicted in the true, dictionary-definition of the word, but when I found myself scrolling mindlessly through my Facebook feed and opening Instagram multiple times a day for no real reason, I knew that I was deep down that rabbit hole.

Somewhere down the line social media has changed - globally - from a place to connect with your friends to a platform on which the world views you. Instagram models, bloggers, fitness coaches, 'influencers' and the like now use social media as a job, making millions of dollars off advertising to their millions of followers. Everyone is so careful to curate an acceptable image of themselves. We all know that social media is just a front, a filtered snapshot of a fabulous life, hiding the real, mundane day-to-day behind. But it's so very easy to forget that as we scroll, scroll, scroll through our news feeds, perfect people with perfect lives pouting out at us through our tiny phone screens.

I have a complicated relationship with social media. In some ways it is a joy to me. It allows me instant communication with people I don't get to see often in real life. It lets me feel like I'm getting to watch my niece and nephew grow up through pictures and videos. I get to see my friends flourish, I get to celebrate with them as they get engaged, get job promotions, have babies and generally live awesome lives. I get to keep my life documented in photos, so I can look back and remember the wonderful times I've had. I like to communicate and social media is a fantastic way of doing this.

And yet...

And yet. And yet. And yet.

Without meaning to, the little liar called comparison often creeps up beside me and infiltrates my thoughts, filling my mind with negative whispers about myself and my worth.

Wow, that person's art/baking/writing/photography is so great! They are far more talented than you'll ever be. Why do you even bother trying to be creative, you untalented hack. 

She looks stunning in this picture, she's so very beautiful. Far more beautiful than you'll ever be. Why do you even bother posting photos of yourself, you hideous swamp monster.

Oh, they seem to be having the best time on holiday! Your life is boring. Why aren't you paddle boarding in Fiji, rather than sitting in bed with your laptop. You've wasted your life. 

Maybe you can relate. Maybe for you it's those blogger mums with the perfect house and kids, while your little darling hasn't given you more than two hours of sleep in a row and you haven't showered in three days. Maybe it's that acquaintance with the really great job who's constantly travelling to exciting places while the most fun you've had in your job recently was that time Karen from accounting brought in Krispy Kreme doughnuts. And you begin to wonder why your life isn't like that. Or why you're not as good as that person. Why they have it all together and you don't. It's all lies of course. Vicious, vicious lies. Not only the fact that their lives aren't perfect, but the fact that just because someone is good at something, means that you're worthless in comparison.

Someone else being successful doesn't mean you're a failure.
Someone else being beautiful doesn't mean you're ugly.
Someone else having fun doesn't mean you're boring.

I'm so tired of it (I'm posting about being somewhat tired of social media while posting this on social media. I'm aware of the irony). I'm tired of the pressure to look good, to have it all together but I'm also tired of the impulse social media brings to compare my life and myself with others, rather than  appreciating my own journey.

I fasted social media for a few weeks a while ago and while I definitely missed it in some ways, in other ways I felt so free. I felt mentally better about myself and my life and I had so much more time for doing things I liked (reading! writing! baking!), rather than just wasting time on my phone. This isn't some grand proclamation about how my fast made me want to leave social media forever. Far from it. I went back to that well. I'll continue go back there, though I know sometimes I'll need to sit back and take some time out. But I'm going to make a concentrated effort for social media to become something else. I want it to be that place where I get inspired by people excelling in their own way. I want it to be a place of comfort - where I can keep up to date with my awesome friends and how fantastically they are doing - rather than a place where I feel inadequate.

So if you, like me, struggle occasionally (or hey, maybe frequently), why not make the decision to join me with this. Let's use social media as a place not to push our opinions down others throats, judge or try to impress, but to share our lives and share in our friends lives. Let's celebrate each other, our joys and successes and dreams, without tearing each other or ourselves down.

On the eve of turning 30

Somebody somewhere once decided that 30 is the age you officially get old. The fun, carefree 20s are over and now it's time to be a Real Grown Up. I'm never sure what exactly that entails, but I imagine it's something like pension plans, sensible shoes and trips to Ikea on a Saturday.

The world tells me that turning 30 is a big deal. So big, it seems, that there are think pieces in Huffington Post and Vox on learned life lessons, things you should no longer do and, in an attempt at a positive spin, why life actually begins at 30 (as if I've been stuck in limbo this whole time).

According to society, there are a number of things I should have achieved by now. These include having a high-flying career, owning a house, getting married, having children, publishing a book/creating an app/starting a business/winning a prestigious prize and traveling Asia with nothing but a backpack and my joie de vivre.

I have done none of these things.

And, much to my dismay, I've found myself buying these lies the past six months. Hook, line and shameful sinker. Instead of focusing on the wonderful life I've lived and the adventures I have had, I've been caught up in all that I haven't done. Should I have dyed my hair pink and got a tattoo at Glastonbury? Should I have studied a Masters? Why oh why haven't I lived in a yurt in the Gobi Desert? Then there's the flip side of turning 30, the idea that I'm suddenly meant to be wise, calm and have my life figured out. Part of me feels like I'm still a kid. Like one day someone will find out that I'm just pretending and that I actually have no idea what I'm doing.

I know in reality nothing will change. That I'll wake up tomorrow and look the same and feel the same and act the same. And I know how blessed I am to have got to 30 with such a full life lived. Not everyone gets that privilege. So rather than reflect on my past and lament any regrets I might have, I'm going to focus on the future. On the things I want to learn and the things I have yet to achieve. Below I've listed just a few things that I want to do as I head into my next decade.

Live bravely

I'll let you into a little secret. I'm pretty damn scared of failing. No matter how many times it happens, it sucks every time and doesn't really get easier. But I don't want the fear of failure to keep me from attempting my life goals. I want to dream recklessly and go for what I want, regardless of whether I succeed. I'll try, I'll fail, I'll get rejected and I will get back up and keep on trying. And, hey, one day I'll get there.

Care less/ care more

Care less about the things that don't matter. Social media, appearances, material possessions, what people think about me. And care more about the things that do - kindness, being a good friend, being more selfless, showing love, combating injustice.

Be perpetually curious

The world is a place of wonder and colour and possibility. There's so much to see and do it's a bit overwhelming. I don't want to stay in a comfortable little bubble, I want to push the envelope. I want to learn and explore and travel and immerse myself in creativity. I want to burn as bright as possible (bright - geddit? Haha...oh).

Stay in my lane

My life's journey is not going to look exactly like someone else's and that's ok. So what if I have not done everything I thought I might have by this age? There's still time. I don't want to spend my life preoccupied on whether I'm...enough. Clever enough, pretty enough, fun enough, ambitious enough. God tells me I am, even if the world might not, and I aim to live in that truth.

So thanks 20s, you were pretty great. You bought me travel, education, jobs, friends, family and a greater sense of self. And here's to you 30s, I have a feeling you might be even better.

A year of living in London

I remember sitting down to write my first blog the day I moved here. It was catharsis, a way of coping with the enormity of my life situation and an unknown future. I sit here a year (well, 14 months) later, having not written my blog in nearly as long, and a somewhat seasoned veteran of the city I call home. It seems strange reading back how foreign London was to me. It started as this impenetrable metropolis, where only the rich, career-driven or starving artists could live with not much room for the rest of us normal folks. I wasn't here to work in finance or chase some music dream, my dream was only to experience the day-to-day of a city I've loved since I first visited as a little girl.

I eventually stopped writing my blog, because that real life I was searching for took over and there was no need to try to make sense of it anymore. But I think it's time to revisit it and so I've compiled a list of a few things I have learned about London, life and myself over the past year (be warned, this list will be a mix of trivial observations and some deeper feelings).

London life

• Everyone gets a 'tube face'. You will try to fight it but eventually you will succumb. It is inevitable. Sorry.

• The best coffee in the UK is here and right on my doorstep. Costa? Starbucks? Ugh, no thanks. Why have that rubbish when I can get Monmouth, Caravan, Prufrock, and Black Sheep? Non-Londoners will call it smug London superiority, but we all know it's the truth. 

• The North/South divide is a real thing and it suddenly matters. When I first moved here I was determined to travel all over. After all, it's one city right? Yeah...not so much. Now you can often hear my shocked exclamation of, “I have to go SOUTH of the river?!” Heck, going past the West End is an issue in itself. My life is mostly a nice little square of Islington-Farringdon-Kings Cross-Dalston.

• You will quickly learn to avoid Central on a Saturday. It's just not worth your sanity.

• Everyone told me London is expensive. I already knew London was going to be expensive before I moved. It's true, London is expensive. It doesn't make it not worth it or make me want to move somewhere cheaper though. I have also rapidly got used to the price of rent and food so that when I do go home, I exclaim how cheap everything is. I've become one of 'those' people.  

• Deliveroo will become a way of life. And you may even on one occasion use Uber Eats to get McDonalds delivered. You will feel ashamed, but also defiant.

Personal life

• Although I'm used to living here and it's often very routine and mundane, I sometimes still find myself getting wide-eyed country girl look when I walk by the Thames and see the world-famous views. It truly is a stunning city.

• My extroverted side has been unleashed a lot more since I moved here. I always considered myself an introvert, although now I think maybe it's pretty even. An ambivert, if you will. I often find myself getting energised by parties rather than tired. 

• Because I knew very few people when I came here, I had to push myself into social situations where I didn't know anyone and basically force myself to talk to strangers. This helped my confidence tremendously, but I also remember how exhausting it was. It's still something I'm not hugely comfortable with, but I'm better at it than I was (or perhaps better at faking it).

• London has a million fun, exciting things to do and it's tempting to try all of them. I'm having to learn when to say yes and when to say no – it's still a struggle. I often find myself getting sad when I don't have any weekend plans although I know I need that time to refuel, especially after a busy week.

• I often find myself morphing into one of those 'London is where life is' people, as if such life doesn't or can't exist outside the city. I hate that I do it and I don't mean to but it's quite easy to get swept up in it all. 

• Loving where you live is so important. You will spend more time there than anticipated and if you hate it, life will be difficult. I'm pretty lucky that I love Highbury. It's got loads of pubs, restaurants, great transport links and is in walking distance of three (three!) beautiful parks. Oh yeah, parks are VERY important when you have no garden. 

• I am so grateful for all the wonderful friends I have made. People I didn't even know a year ago are now so dear to me I can't imagine not having them in my life.

The serious stuff

• For a city of 8 million people, London can be be very isolating. I remember the feelings of loneliness I had in the first few months after my move and how difficult it was to overcome the thinking that it might never change. I was meeting lots of people but didn't really know them and there was no quick fix for that. I just had to ride it out, trust God and understand that this too would pass. It has, a long time ago in case you're wondering. 

• Having a community around you is essential. Getting plugged into a church was one of the major factors that helped me feel settled, more than a job or a long term housing situation. It wasn't like I had an instant group of friends - friendships take time to cultivate - but it was a place of like-minded people my age that had the potential for something more. And I luckily stumbled upon a church (KXC) that I can call home and that has given me that sense of community. I have a strong dislike of cliques and I want to make sure that no one I come across ever feels that they are unwelcome or unwanted. I want everyone who comes through the doors to feel that sense of community and welcome that I felt when I first went there. 

• I've spent a year enjoying all London has to offer, but I don't want to just consume, I want to give back. I want there to be a reason I'm in London. I love having fun but I don't want that to be the only thing that I take away. I want to make a difference in this beautiful, broken city. 

• It's very easy to fall into the trap of comparison, especially in such a frenetic and competitive city. I admit to measuring myself against others when it comes to careers, finance, looks, hobbies and social life and coming up short. It's something I've been wrestling with a lot over this year and something I'm actively trying to avoid, but I can't confess to having the all answers. I suspect that it's not just me that feels this way, though, and that it's a symptom of a society obsessed with appearances, where status is everything. 

• I've recently been trying to decipher the difference between happiness and contentment. Is happiness a state of being or is it transient? I've been asked time and again whether I'm happy, whether moving to London was all I thought it would be. I guess the answer to that is yes, and no. Life has its ups and downs, like all lives do, and some days I'm on top of the world and beaming from ear to ear, loving life and everyone in it. And some days, the tube is crowded and work has sucked and I have an achy back from my terrible mattress and life isn't all shiny. But when I stop to think about it - and really take stock of my life - I may not always be happy in the emotional sense, but I'm satisfied. I am content. 

Looking back on my past blogs, it all seems so silly that I was afraid that it might not work out. Of course God had it under control, of course He was there all along. But in a way, my future is still unknown and uncertain. Sure, I'm living here - but now what? I guess I'll have to find out along the way and then look back at this blog post with an AHA moment in a year's time. All I know is, for the foreseeable future, I'm right where I want to be.

The complicated matter of leaving

I long for adventure. My worst fear is living a beige life, a life without fun or meaning or unexpected delights. But when adventure comes, I find change is not as easy as I hope it will be. 

I live in my imagination. And often, sadly, I live in my (idealised) vision of the future. The places I will go, the people I will meet, the adventures I will have. One of my dreams has always been to live in London. Now I'm here...

...and I'm a little bit scared.

I'm not scared of London. Not at all! I adore the city - the buzz, the business, the culture, the wealth of opportunities. I think I am a bit scared of failing. Of not finding a job or good friends. Of finding that my dream of London doesn't match up to what I've envisioned. I'm scared that I might hate it. 

I know this is right. I know, I know, I know. But it doesn't mean that I'm not going to miss what I've left behind. For so many years I just wanted to flee my hometown and get busy living in London. Yet I've made a life for myself in Gloucester. I have friends I love, a great church, my family is there and I've had the joy of seeing my niece regularly. I have a bit of FOMO (fear of missing out, for those unaccustomed to internet acronyms) to be honest. Seeing all the pictures of my friends having fun and feeling I'm missing out, feeling like I'm drifting away from them. 

But on the other hand, a whole world of 'what if' awaits. I don't know where this journey is going to take me, but it's exciting. The unknown is scary but my overriding feeling about all this is anticipation - the possibility that my life might change wonderfully (how? That is just one more unanswered question). 

I am ready for the new, it's just a bittersweet goodbye to the old. 

P.S. Let me say this once and for all: I am not going to become a 'Londoner'. Once a county bumpkin from the Shire, always one!