I love going to art galleries.  When I lived in Edinburgh I went a fair amount, I even had a membership card so I could go into the special exhibitions for free, and of course being a canny Scotswoman, I definitely got my monies worth.  I love standing back and admiring a work from afar, gradually working my way closer to the exhibit, focussing in on the detail and drinking in every brush stoke, in the hope that when I leave, I can recreate the picture in my mind, and allow myself to see it in all its glory anytime I want, just by closing my eyes.  Then I look over at the little card on the wall, next to the painting, keen to find out what magnificent title the artist has bestowed upon this beautiful work of art.

Untitled.

Seriously?  Are you shitting me?!  You spent years of your life pouring your blood, sweat and tears into this creative magnificence, yet you couldn’t be arsed to come up with a name?? RAGING.

Well, this blog is no work of art, and there is scant evidence of any such creative genius amongst the hastily typed words, but tbh I couldn’t think of a title for this either, so Untitled it is. Sorry about that.  Oh and actually this whole precis to the post is utterly irrelevant too. Well, pretty much.

To try to back pedal somewhat, I did actually try to come up with a name for this post, but right now the proper words are eluding me (I’m not selling this post, am I?).  My single-figured readers are no doubt highly aware that I’ve spent the majority of this year so far obsessing about my impending birthday, and I’ll be honest, I’m still somewhat obsessed.  However, the obsession has changed somewhat from fearing the future and what it holds, because I’m constantly looking over my shoulder to the past, and seeing all the gaps in my life where ‘major life events’ should be (hint: owning a home, marriage, children, yadda yadda yadda), to looking forward and feeling, well, happy.

I got rid of my TV in July, so I’ve been without one for just over 2 months.  I can honestly say I’ve not missed it in the slightest.  My plans for coming home from work to read for hours on end have somewhat been diminished by the inordinate amount of time I spend just generally titting about online, but on the whole, being TV-free has been a positive in my life.  I definitely just sit more and think about life, i.e. stare at the walls and over think stuff, not always in a bad way though.  I’m the kind of person that will stew over things for a while, gently mulling things over until I get to a point I can’t take it anymore and tend to make a snap decision about something I’ve swithered about for months.  Having all this extra thinking time has helped me sort through a lot of the general crap that just floats about my head, and has made me think of the whole turning 40 thing in sharp definition.

When you approach these life-defining moments, I think surely you can’t help put look at the past and wonder ‘what if….’ or ‘if only…’?  I can’t be the only one that thinks this, right?  I sometimes wonder if all my coupled up/married friends never have these thoughts because of course from the outside when you see people living a life you think you’ve missed out on, it’s easy to assume that everything is hunky dory and happiness abounds, and ergo, this is something I’m missing out on by not having.  I know life isn’t that simple though.  So all this extra time not staring at the pish on TV has led me to mull all this over, and actually realise just how settled and happy I am.  I may not own a house, but I have a lovely, bright and sunny flat to call home, and no stress if the boiler tanks because someone else can sort that for me.  I have a really good job with a tiny commute and I’m happy to go there everyday.  I’m loving the gym work I’m doing, I’m lucky to have found a brilliant PT who knows his stuff, and I’m finally making progress that I feel has eluded me for a long time.  I have amazing friends & family in my life that I’ll never cease being grateful for, and this year I’ve been very fortunate to have had lots of opportunities to catch up with many of them, and this has made me very happy.  Possibly for me though, the biggest achievement is that possibly for the first time in my life I feel really happy with myself.  I can honestly say I’ve never felt like that before.  It’s daft I know, but that’s just how it is.  It isn’t that I suddenly think I’m perfect (ha!), rather that I’m fine with being imperfect.  I’m overweight and that’s okay because being able to accept that means I can actually change it, for the right reasons.  I don’t need anyone’s approval anymore.  I would always say I didn’t care what people thought of me but that was utter bullshit, wrapped in a lot of denial.  Now I can say I don’t care and mean it.  It isn’t that I don’t care about people, but just that I don’t need anyone to think nice things about me in order for me to recognise that I’m nice.  I read a great quote by Wayne Dyer recently that I’ve been thinking of a lot:

What other people think of me is none of my business 

This just really resonated with me.  Everyone in the world could tell you that you’re fabulous, but if you don’t think it yourself, you’ll never believe them. So why does it matter what anyone else thinks?  It doesn’t.  I already know I’m fabulous 😀  If other people don’t like me that’s fine, the world is a big place, and I don’t like everyone, so why should they all like me?  I feel more comfortable in my own skin than I have in any of the last 39 (and a bit) years, so is turning 40 a big deal now?  No.  Actually I wouldn’t want to be younger.  It’s taken me longer than it perhaps should to get to this place, but who cares.  That’s the past.  The present is good, and the future is full of possibilities and adventures, if that’s what I want.  I can take whichever path I want, and that excites me.  So roll on 40. Well, roll slowly.  We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves here….

Have a great weekend folks.