Maybe it's because it's past midnight and I'm sitting here thinking about
absolutely everything and nothing at the same time, but isn't it weird how
much a person can change without ever officially announcing it?
I used to think quiet nights at home were boring. I wanted to be out, doing
something, going somewhere, having a reason to get dressed. Now? Give me a
good shower, comfortable clothes, a clean room, something nice to drink and
a few hours at home and I'm genuinely happy.
Isn't it weird that I became the person I used to think was boring?
I actually love staying home. I love having nowhere to be. I love when the
day gets quiet and I can finally hear myself think. Apparently, this is what
growing up does to you. Or maybe I'm just tired. Probably both.
And speaking of things I never thought I'd care about,
isn't it weird that I used to think the Hada Labo Premium Hydrating
Lotion was just another hyped-up skincare product?
I had seen it everywhere and thought, okay, another product people on the
internet are collectively losing their minds over. But then I tried it.
And unfortunately, the internet was right.
Who am I?
Have I learned nothing?
*looking at you Anua*
My past self would be so disappointed to know how easily I can now be
influenced by
yet another hyped skincare product. (But this one's good, believe me!)
Maybe that is also part of growing up. You start caring less about having a
bathroom cabinet full of things and more about finding the handful of things
that actually work. My beauty routine has become so much simpler over the
years. I don't want ten different products just because they're cute or
trending. I want the one that works, the one I actually reach for, and
preferably the one I won't forget exists at the back of my drawer.
Which brings me to another thing that has changed:
I would rather buy one really good thing than ten random things now.
There was a time when I loved the excitement of having lots of little
things. Now I think about whether I'll still want it six months from now.
I think about whether I'll actually use it. I think about whether I love
it enough to justify bringing another thing into my already very full
life.
I never thought I'd become this practical. Yet here we are.
And then there are the things that feel a little more surprising.
Isn't it weird that I never thought I'd want children, and now
I have a baby of my own?
Life really does have a sense of humour.
I remember being so sure about what my life would look like and what I
would or wouldn't want. Then life happened, and suddenly
I was holding a tiny human
who somehow manages to need me every five minutes. And it wasn't as bad as
I thought it would be, to be completely honest.
Actually, it was nothing like I thought it would be.
Again, maybe that's the thing about growing up. You can spend years
imagining the person you're going to become, only to end up somewhere
completely different and realise that maybe you didn't know yourself as
well as you thought you did.
Which is especially funny when I think about
how convinced I was that I had the lowest pain tolerance and the
worst anxiety imaginable, and then somehow proceeded to have a
C-section.
Me? The same person who can dramatically complain about a tiny paper cut?
Apparently.
There are moments when I look back and think, I really did that? I
don't think I would have believed myself if someone had told me years ago.
Sometimes we don't really know how strong we are until life puts us in a
situation where there isn't much choice but to be.
And then, somehow, in the middle of becoming this entirely different
person, I also became someone who likes routines.
Isn't it weird that I thrive on routines now?
I've always thought of myself as a go-with-the-flow kind of person. I
still am, to some extent. But these days, I like knowing what my day
roughly looks like. I like having little routines to fall back on. I like
knowing when I'm going to eat, when I'm going to rest, when I'm going to
journal, when I'm going to do absolutely nothing.
Maybe routines aren't about making life predictable. Maybe they're just
little anchors when everything else feels like it's moving.
Even the way I journal has changed.
Isn't it weird that I journal more on my phone than on paper now?
.jpg)
I still love a physical notebook. I always will. There is something about
writing on paper that feels special. But my daily entries and little logs?
Those usually happen on my phone now. I'm just more on the go these days.
Sometimes I have a thought at the most random time and I want to write it
down before it disappears. My phone is always with me, so it makes sense.
Old me would probably have insisted that journaling only counts if it
involves a cute notebook and a good pen.
New me says: if I wrote it down, it counts.
And then there is
blogging.
Oh, blogging.
Isn't it weird that I used to be glued to my laptop, constantly
updating my blog, and now I barely update it?
There was a time when I could sit down and spend hours writing a post
without thinking twice about it. I miss that sometimes. I miss having all
the time in the world to obsess over a sentence, resize a photo, change a
font, rewrite an introduction for the seventh time and somehow convince
myself that this was productive.
Now, there is a little baby who needs me more than my blog does.
And I know that's okay.
Still, I miss those days when I could disappear into my little corner of
the internet without worrying about whether a baby was about to wake up
crying. Maybe I'll find my rhythm again. Maybe my blog will become
something different. Maybe I won't update as often, and that's okay too.
I think I'm finally learning that not everything has to stay the same just
because I loved it once.
Even my relationship with saying no has changed.
Isn't it weird how freeing it feels to say no?
No to a collaboration that makes absolutely no sense.
No to a garbage offer that somehow expects me to do seventeen things for
the exposure of three people and a dream.
No to plans that make me feel exhausted before I've even left the house.
No to giving away my free time just because I technically have it.
I used to feel like I needed a good reason to say no. Now sometimes "I
don't want to" feels like a perfectly reasonable reason.
Maybe that's another quiet part of growing up. You stop treating your time
like it's an unlimited resource. And I think that's why I find it funny
that the older I get, the more I appreciate the small, ordinary things.
A quiet night.
A skincare product that actually works.
A routine.
A phone full of random thoughts.
One really good purchase instead of ten unnecessary ones.
A little more time at home.
A little less guilt about saying no.
A life that doesn't look exactly like the one I imagined.
Isn't it weird that growing up wasn't quite what I thought it would
be?
I thought getting older would mean having everything figured out. Instead,
it feels more like constantly meeting new versions of myself and going,
oh, so we're doing this now?
There are parts of my life today that I once thought were completely out
of reach. There are things I used to swear I would never do that I now do
without thinking twice. There are things I thought would make me unhappy
that somehow became some of the most meaningful parts of my life.
And maybe that's the weirdest part.
I'm living pieces of a life I once thought was completely out of
reach.
Oh, I don't know where I'm going with this post.
I started writing because I had a random thought at 2AM and, as usual, one
thought turned into twelve. But maybe that's what I like about blogging.
Sometimes I don't need a lesson. I don't need a perfectly structured
takeaway. I don't need to pretend I have everything figured out.
Sometimes I just want to sit down, type a few things out and wonder about
the person I've become.
She's quite different from the girl who thought she had everything
planned.
And I'm starting to really like her.
Isn't it weird?
0 comments