I used to be an interior designer, for about four years in fact. Prior to that I worked in fashion and dabbled in the film industry. I’ve also had all sorts of other jobs too - everything from working in an auction house to being a life drawing model (yes, nude).
Despite the seemingly exciting roles I had nothing really stuck, and I spent my twenties feeling perpetually clueless as to what to do next. My life seemed quite glam on the surface, but despite being at the flash PR party I was secretly surviving off canapés and completely filled with despair.
You see, I knew I wanted a big life, that I wanted to express myself, that I wanted to collaborate with interesting and creative people in my work. I didn’t want to sneak in the back door to said parties anymore, instead I yearned to be at the top of the guest list, in the VIP section. I knew that I wanted to live in an exciting city, travel and never wear a suit to work. I just didn’t know exactly how to get there.
So I experimented, and experimented, and experimented. Despite the lack of direction I hardly sat still and always did something. In that came an even bigger frustration, more confusion, a feeling of, “I’m trying so hard yet nothing feels quite right!”
My goldilocks syndrome eventually waned and I became an interior designer because it seemed a good balance of creative and corporate - stable with a splash of creative flair. I did well in the industry from the get-go, getting good jobs and eventually moving from Sydney to Melbourne to work for one of the top decorating firms in Australia.
On paper things looked great! By age 27 I was box-ticking galore, complete with a boring boyfriend and five-year plan. I also had an incredible boss who became (and remains) a mentor and loved my colleagues. My job duties were fine, I got on with things, getting my work done and putting my hand up to do more when moments to let my creative spark shine came up.
Life was… supposed to be good, but I wasn’t all that happy, and I could never pin-point why.
I remember at the beginning of 2020, returning to work after a three week summer break, I should have been feeling refreshed yet I felt deflated. My soul was screaming “let me out!!” and I had a nagging feeling that things needed to change.
Of course the world soon did change, but just before that I opted to break free. I sat down with said boss after one month of being back at the office and told her I wanted to write. She agreed that was what I should do too, being supportive to the point she helped me build a website.
With this stroke of support, a bit of affirmation, and a lot of drive, I leapt out into the real world of freelancing. It took a while to find my feet within that space (perhaps I should have made a plan) but despite the lockdowns I finally felt free!
Since then I have had a few iterations but I’ve settled on writing, writing, and more writing. I had a shop, I have a podcast, I have a book coming out! Last week an article I wrote on body image was the no.1 trending piece in Australia!
I’m aiming to sell a TV show this year and have many other things in the pipeline. Basically all things are going and glowing and whilst I miss the collaborative energy one gets from colleagues (plus our team’s regular morning tea parties) I know I’m on the right track.
But do you know what I wish I’d been told sooner, it’s this: Go back to five.
Let me explain… A few weeks ago, whilst at my parents beach house in the picturesque, completely secluded Marlborough Sounds, I met a friend’s older sister (now she’s a friend too) who boasts and incredible career in HR and is a successful business owner in her own right. I’m in awe of her, in fact the fact I met her somewhere so isolated, hardly a place graced by movers or shakers, feels kind of cosmic.
As we spent the week socialising together she shared all sorts of sage advice with me, basically being the big sister-meets-maternal-figure I’d always yearned for. And on our last day of hanging out together my mother was sharing with her how I used to write and illustrate books as a child - all the time! To this our new friend promptly replied with “In HR we have a saying, that’s Go Back to Five.”
So what does that mean. Well, it’s simple, yet perhaps sounds abstract. If you think about that unspoiled version of you that encompassed both your pure essence and your natural skills, roughly a five year old version of yourself, ask, what were they up to? That’s your clue. That is you!
Since hearing this saying I’ve done a deep dive on family albums, old report cards and exercise books from primary school. I’ve looked through old folders and diaries and the message that’s repeated is that as a child all I did was read, write and draw.
I never knew this was such a skill of mine, nor considered that this reflecting would be so telling. However, up until about age 13, there’s proof that I won all sorts of writing prizes. I also read many report cards citing that storytelling was my strength and that it was what I enjoyed most, not to mention that I often used imagery to aid with my words.
Since primary school I have never felt particularly skilled at painting. At about age 10 I moved schools, had a string of rubbish art teachers, and certainly didn’t feel as talented as the other girls in my various classes. I liked art but I was ashamed of not being better. In illustrating my recent manuscript I’ve really had to face that insecurity.
However, overall I feel elated to know I’m now on track. That my chosen, committed path couldn’t be more authentic. Writing books is what I should be doing, I am a storyteller. So why couldn’t I remember this when choosing my university curriculum?
I don’t know why exactly. Naturally, as a teen, I was determined to fit in and stand out, following the crowd as well as what was cool. Beyond that I wasn’t blessed with the best English teachers at high school (despite my expensive education, I’m sorry to say, Mum and Dad).
When I was an interior designer my colleagues would often say things such as “I always used to rearrange my bedroom furniture as a child.” etc, expressing that they’d had a passion for room layouts since infancy. I would nod along to these kinds of comments, pretending that’s what I’d done too, when in fact I’d had my nose deep in a book, or was letting my imagination run free as I dreamt up all sorts of scenarios, pen in hand, or was sharing my stories with my little sisters (the best kind of captive audience for a budding storyteller).
If you’re struggling at any age, but especially in your twenties, see if you can go over your school books. Look through family albums and recognise where you were your happiest. Ask your mum. Go Back to Five.
My (extremely successful, entrepreneur) uncle says, “20s are for learning, 30s are for earning.” So don’t get down if you feel you wasted your twenties away by doing incredible things such as travelling, working, interning, studying and actually living! Character building is as crucial as returning home to yourself. I encourage you to Go Back to Five as much as I encourage you to experiment in order to become interesting.
Nowadays I’m not quite top of the guest list but I’m getting there (and frankly a cosy cocktail bar with close friends feels a lot more appealing). VIP lists or otherwise, overall my life is feeling a lot more aligned than it ever has. And it turns out I knew what I was supposed to do all along. So what about you? Go Back to Five and let me know in the comments below.