At 51 I feel as if I am only just beginning to properly understand myself.
I used to think that by this age I would have it all figured out and settled by now.
That I would have completely gotten to grips with the who that I am. The what I want, the what I believe, the what I am good at and the where I fit into this big, bold, and beautiful yet ever so puzzling world.
I also thought that I would have had a strong friendship group by now.
But instead, here I am, without any friends, and feeling as though much of my life has been spent creating different versions of myself to try to fit in and be 'normal'.
I feel as if I have been acting much of my life.
Playing different character roles and behaving and doing simply what was expected at any given time. Learning what a good mother, wife, daughter, friend, maker, and grown adult female was supposed to look like, and then just going through the motions and playing the part accordingly.
I constantly studied and compared myself to others and adjusted my behaviour to correspond. Because surely if I looked the same as them, did the same, thought the same, and followed the same routine, to-dos and life path, I would be accepted and be doing things right, right?
I have never truly felt safe to be absolutely me.
Why? Sitting here analysing my thought process as I type, I think it goes back to old voices heard and stories lived and repeated for so long that I learnt to believe that they were true.
I was inconsistent.
Too emotional.
Too enthusiastic.
Too loud.
Too quiet.
Too impulsive.
Too weird.
Always starting things and not finishing them.
Always daydreaming.
Always changing my mind.
Always coming up with the ideas but never following through.
Never quite managing life in the organised, linear way that those around me seemed to manage so effortlessly.
Then, at 50, I discovered AuDHD.
Suddenly an enormous amount of my life had a clear and rather simple explanation.
Not an excuse. Not a neat little answer to everything. But I could certainly see my past and different to others behaviours through a very different lens.
Things I had spent decades treating as evidence that I was somehow failing at being a proper grown-up, now look more like the natural workings of a brain that I have never been taught to understand.
After the grief of looking back and thinking what might have been if only I had known sooner, this new found realisation actually quietly opened a door to a whole new world of self-discovery.
I now find myself not asking:
Who should I be?
But now:
Who am I, actually?
What do I enjoy doing when nobody is watching?
What makes me lose track of time?
What makes me feel peaceful?
What am I curious about?
What do I want to learn?
What sort of clothes feel like me?
What does home feel like to me?
What do I believe? Not because somebody else believes it, but because I have explored it for myself?
How do I want my days to feel? How do I want my life to look like?
And perhaps most importantly:
What if I am allowed to simply just be me?
At 51 I am curious about spirituality and connection in ways that I have never been before.
I want to spend more time outside.
I want to make things with my hands.
I want to write.
I want to photograph ordinary days and learn how to turn little fragments of life into films.
I want to wander down paths not knowing where they will take me.
I want books piled beside the bed and muddy shoes by the door and half-finished creative projects waiting patiently for me to become interested in them again.
I want to dress like myself without fear.
I want to make friends and meet up for coffee and cake.
I want to write letters to send, and journal.
I want to learn something new everyday and do deep dives down rabbit holes so deep I get lost and forget where I started.
I want to notice things.
I want to be ridiculously enthusiastic when something excites me and no longer apologise for it.
I think I am finally starting to understand what evolving and becoming yourself actually feels like (and it's wonderful!)
The gradual shedding and forgetting of those always lingering voices heard during days long gone by.
The releasing of the shouldered expectations of others.
The comparisons.
The old judgements.
And the so many versions of you created to keep other people comfortable.
Along with the endless little I shoulds.
Now I know that underneath all of that, hidden deep beneath all of the armour, masks and costumes worn, was a unique soul with kindness in her heart and an affinity to notice all that is good.
It is her time to show up and be seen.
So this coming year, of my 51st on this earth, I want to be about discovery.
Being curious.
Being creative.
Being willing to try things badly.
Being willing to learn.
Being willing to say, actually, I don't want that anymore.
Being willing to say, I have absolutely no idea where this is going, but it feels good and I'd quite like to find out where it takes me without shame.
There is an enormous freedom in realising that your life before does not have to be all that there is now. And you absolutely, most definitely, don't have to be the same person that you have always been.
I can change. Now that I understand my quirky, chaotic, sometimes a nightmare, but often very fun brain, I can work with it instead of getting frustrated and pushing against it. And I am.
I can encourage different voices now.
I can make new friends.
I can start that long thought about YouTube channel.
I can walk through the woods alone with a camera.
I can explore spirituality.
I can learn to sew again.
I can build something that I haven't even imagined yet.
I can actually stop procrastinating and begin.
I still don't know exactly who I am or who I am becoming.
But I don't need to.
I can just be curious. Pay attention to what feels authentically me, and notice which parts of me come alive when I they hear the kinder voice and are given room to breathe.
I am going to let the next chapter unfold without trying to decide the ending before I have even written the first word.
And I don't need anyone's permission or say so.
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