I started this week in a flurry of despair. Fretting that I was backtracking in every sense. Yet now, come Saturday, I’m feeling so much stronger, more ahead and like I’m back on the ladder to my ultimate path.
Why was I fretting? Well, I currently find myself based in Sydney, after four years, post travel whirlwind. I’m living in temporary digs in Sydney’s Double Bay (nicknamed Double Pay as it’s so posh, something I’m not complaining about). In a bit of a worst house, best street situation I am renting a room in a midcentury high rise. I’ve never lived in a building like this but opted for it as it has an unavoidable lift (and I have a phobia of elevators I need to conquer), a pool, a banging view of the bay, plus the price is right.
OK, it could be worse, though I’ll circle back and highlight that I just said room, not apartment. It’s my first go with flatmates in exactly eight years. Bar living with a boyfriend, and a couple of other short term set ups, I am actually sharing this place with two other women for the foreseeable.
Earlier this week a dominant (immature, undernourished) part of me had been feeling flat about this - surely I don’t revert to a house share at this point? And what about all of my fabulous decor that’s gathering dust in storage down south?
More importantly, what about my strange habits I don’t want anyone to witness?! I want to be able to have baths every night, eat breakfast for dinner and spend Saturday night in whilst spending Tuesday night out!
I’m also a little ashamed that all of my hard work and fabulousness hasn’t yet afforded me a hot pink mansion. In my sugar coated dream life, by now (age 30 - 31 on Thursday in case you were wondering), I’m not taking public transport or being a babe on a budget, instead I’m taking some kind of eco-friendly helicopter to work each day and can’t even remember how to hand-wash my own dishes.
A girl can dream… but honestly, tough titties. This is it.
The economy has been better and I haven’t worked full time in nine months. So this is my only feasible reality right now. Not to mention I’ve had to return to doing a bit of copywriting as freelancing for digital publications doesn’t quite break the bank, not yet. Backsliding or enterprising? It often feels like both.
After almost a decade and a half spent between six cities and four countries (all self-inflicted) I’ve moved again (back to Sydney after four years in Melbourne) when I’ll ultimately be moving again (to L.A. in six or so months). Right now I don’t know if Sydney feels like home or a holding pattern. Again, it feels like both.
In dwelling on all of this I had a mid-week meltdown and sought some emergency phone counselling from my boyfriend, then my mum and then my mentor. They each respectively told me to get a grip and be positive. They were all right.
So, on Wednesday evening, I went to bed thinking only wonderful things. I did this whilst also actively letting go of one work battle I have well and truly lost (something that has been causing me so much grief for four very long months). By Thursday my agent followed through on something we’d be pondering for quite a while, I got every one of my editorial ideas commissioned in my contract journalist job, and by Friday I was sat across from an Australian media legend in a job interview (which went so well it extended from 30 minutes to an hour - and this woman is busy).
What a difference a week makes.
So, if you feel like you’re starting again, you’ve backslid or you’re lagging behind, get over it, get on with it, and most importantly, think grateful thoughts. Your life is a one horse race made up of many zig-zags. But if you don’t believe in yourself or stay focused, you’ll not be able to follow the prosperous path that is has actually already been outlined for you.
Now for this week’s recs…
Read:
The reason I keep saying tough titties is because of Laura Belgray’s BRILLIANT new memoir, you guessed it, Tough Titties! Part memoir, part (anti-)self-help book, I haven’t really read anything quite like this.
Laura, a prolific NYC copywriter, shares with bravery and brash honesty, talking through her long life of fuck ups, being a late bloomer and going into detail about “blowjobs she gave in the 90s”. It’s raw, it’s funny and it’s real, plus it has a viable happy ending (she had a million dollar year in her business and is married to someone great!).
I highly recommend you read it, more so if you’re going through a rut (I’m not, but I am going through a patch, so to speak) or feeling any bit behind in life.
Watch:
I find the French make films the way the English make TV dramas - they pump them out yet somehow they’re always good.
I recently saw Other People’s Children, a beautiful French film in which Virginie Efira plays the protagonist: a public school teacher who’s recently met a man who has child (surprise surprise).
Overall the story is about the nuanced relationship women have with motherhood. The main character is touching 40 and on her last fertile legs. Meanwhile she forms a loving relationship with her new beau’s five year old, as well as a friendship with the child’s mother.
Perhaps because Virginie is Belgian, she plays the character with more warmth than the average Parisian and really carries the film. Without giving spoilers away, the movie doesn’t end with Virginie holding her own bonnie baby, but instead having a realistic encounter with an ex-student, and realising she has impacted the lives of many children - motherhood or otherwise.
I found this ending refreshingly anti-Hollywood, empowering and neither pro nor anti becoming a mother.
A lot of people in my life are having babies right now, or are trying for them. Some friends are loving their new babies, some are struggling with parenthood, some are struggling to conceive, some friends in same-sex couples are undergoing the long haul (unbelievably expensive) journey of surrogacy or IUI, whilst some friends are forgoing parenthood altogether. Even I have been thinking about motherhood more - not that I’m trying to conceive at all - but my primal urge to procreate has been released from its cage (all whilst my ambitious urge to become a best-selling author takes up a bit more headspace than that).
Motherhood mixed with career is not an easy cocktail to down. People like me can supposedly have it all but what’s the real price? This film reminds you that it all comes down to purpose. It’s about being relaxed about the fact that your purpose might realise itself differently from how you’d originally envisioned.
Not to mention, as we all rationally know, becoming a parent is not always up to you.
Wear:
As I’m back in town I’m re-discovering new and old vintage haunts. Grand Days in Woolloomooloo is my latest fave, and I was able to pick up a gem of a cardigan there last week, which is helping my backtracking blues. Woolly and furry, it’s a fabulous little number that accentuates my waist and slots effortlessly into my wardrobe.
Bonus - Listen:
Given my age and nationality, rugby legend, Dan Carter, was responsible for my sexual awakening (anyone else remember that billboard in the middle of Christchurch?).
More than just a pretty face, I listened to the most beautiful interview with him this week on Elizabeth Day’s How to Fail. In it he talked about the perils of being an ageing athlete, fatherhood and stepping through stigma to see a psychologist. His message throughout the interview was simple, but the impact, it’s had on me anyway, is profound. I urge you to listen to it.
I’ve been writing a lot for MamaMia - most articles you can check out on my author page. I particualry like this piece and this piece… oh and maybe read this piece too, if you have time.
Lastly, I would really appreciate if you guys would consider donating to my Dry July campaign. I’ve given up grog for one month to support an array of Australian cancer charities via the Dry July Foundation. Please donate here if you can (donations can be as little as $2 and it’s all tax deductible).
Until next month. x