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HAPPINESS

Who doesn’t love a touch of happiness here and there? It is such a soul-quenching joyous thing. I used to think the pursuit of happiness was the point of my life. But I have learned differently. It is a beautiful thing to have in the moment, but a life spent searching for happiness is a life spent living elsewhere and not in the moment. Happiness is found in moments – and they are fucking beautiful moments to cherish and hold onto. But everything passes in life. The heart-warmingly good, the bad and the very, very ugly. Life is a conveyor belt of emotions. It never stops and you really can never tell what’s going to be on offer on any given day.

MY PINK IDENTITY

So folks, I had a new experience on the weekend. I went to the Pride Parade. Dressed in pink. Well, kind of dressed in pink. I was actually dressed in a black jumpsuit with a warm pink jacket because it’s now the only pink thing that fits me but it was a hot Hobart day so it was a little bit sweaty marching down the streets. But it was worth it. It was my first ever outing as somebody who no longer entirely identifies as straight. But I don’t identify as anything else either. Maybe my identity is pink.

WHERE’S MY MOTIVATION?

For much of my life, I was driven and busy and energetic and doing shit all the time. I didn’t sleep. I ate a lot. All my spare time filled up with mothering or wifeing or friending or working or volunteering. It was a fairly typical life for someone in their thirties and forties. Then I imploded and everything changed.

BOUNDARIES

Over the weeks and months and years of my healing journey, I have heard the word ‘boundaries’ whispered in my ear countless times. Although, sometimes it’s less of a whisper and more of a fish wife’s guttural screech, echoing around the chambers of my people-pleasing brain.

BOUND TO MY BODY

I have made it abundantly clear since I started sharing my story with you, that I have an eating disorder. Or should I say, I had an eating disorder. I have been pursuing recovery since I first graced the doorstep of my psychologist in 2015 and I can say with absolute certainty that I have reached a very happy place when it comes to my relationship with food.

ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FEARFUL

My mother swore by the old adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder, I’ve found for many things, absence makes the heart grow fearful. When I’m away from loved ones for any length of time I miss them and feel an even stronger sense of love and longing when we’re reunited (usually). But when I let go of the daily routines of my life, it’s much harder to reestablish habits. I develop a crisis of confidence.