Today I look in the mirror and this is what I see. I see age where before there was only youth. I see exhaustion and dehydration and not enough self-care. But do you know what else I see? A blank canvas.
Sometimes it is hard for us, as women (and perhaps men, but I wouldn’t know), to truly accept who we are without all the trimmings. Our world (our peer group too) is so hell bent on making us feel shitty about ourselves that we take it as a given. We shouldn’t love the way we look. It’s like it’s written in some rule book about life. I don’t want this for my daughter. I want her to know that even when she’s having a down moment, even when she doesn’t love the way she looks in the mirror… that those feelings, that niggling little voice in the back of her mind, it has nothing to do with her self worth. That she can, albeit perhaps not entirely (in a perfect world, right?), overcome it.
Having lived on the edge of the world for almost three years, I have lost any sense of self-style. I’m not talking about magazines or trends or fashion. I’m talking about me. Who I am, how I like to dress, how I express myself on the outside. In the village I wore t-shirts and jeans every day for years. I wore clothes that were practical, comfortable and culturally respectful. I simplified my life before I left on my trip, I donated most of my belongings to charity keeping only those things that held true significance to me. I packed away the styled things I thought would be important to me when I returned. Many of them, three years later, I now have no idea why I kept. My style has changed… I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t what it was before. I have changed. I have grown up. I left a 20-something kid, searching for inspiration, for freedom and for life. I came back a wife and a mother.
I got an email from one of the lovely editors at, The Conversation (an online publication that I write for), who said she’d been looking through my blog and wondered if would be interested in writing a piece for her on style. I almost fell off my chair. She said, you have great style! Would you like to write about it? And I spat water across my computer.
What style? I said. I will write a style article for The Conversation. But not this week. I will write about transformation. About how I lost my style and how after three years I rediscovered myself, my style and my feet in this wild world.
You have to be open and ready to accept change. And in this area of my life, change is necessary for growth.
I am now, as I always have been, open for transformation.
Bring it on.
The winner of the Ergobaby Doll Carrier competition is: Amber Lee. Congratulations Amber!! Your email address has been passed on to Babes in Arms and they will be in touch shortly to get your address for delivery. Thanks everyone who entered!!!