32

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 32...

As I creep ever deeper into my thirties, I am definitely understanding a lot more about adulthood and parenthood, namely why parents and adults seemed to know everything and would sometimes just want some space after a long day at work.

They did not know everything, they most certainly guessed. They made up whatever lie fit the situation and you only found out much later they had in fact been lying this whole time and just never told you. They just made something up that seemed right.

When I get home, no I honestly don't want to play right now, I simply want to sit on this sofa and slip into a coma until I go to bed. But that's not what adulthood, nor parenthood, is about is it?

You get up early, you're harassed from the moment your eyes are forcibly opened by the small human jumping on your ribcage, you go to work and struggle to keep your focus on anything other than going back to sleep, but when you arrive home, you can do no such thing as this small human is once again demanding your attention, having missed you all day.

While you love the love from this precious tiny human, some days you cannot wait for bed time, so you too can have some much needed rest and "me time".

Often though, when this time comes, you feel like the day has been wasted, you weren't as attentive as you wanted to be, not as kind, not as loving, constantly thinking you should have done more, rather than sat down and zoned out praying for bed time.

Your promise that tomorrow you will be a better parent. Tomorrow you'll get up earlier, you'll work harder and you'll savour the time before bed.

But tomorrow comes and that same mental exhaustion breaks you and you get through the day much the same as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before.

You feel like maybe you're not a good parent, not a solid worker, not a respectful partner. You feel like you should be doing more, but running on empty won't get you very far and when you run out of steam, there's barely any left for you, let alone anyone else.

As I hit 32 I am struck with the feeling of guilt. Guilt that so much time is being wasted. Guilt that I am not enjoying things as much as I am 'supposed' to. Guilt that I often choose me and my wellbeing over others.

While we are all told to prioritise self-care and to choose yourself more and to focus on what makes you happy, they fail to talk about when that is not an option.

This is not a woe is me, the life I chose isn't all I had hoped and it's hard, blah blah blah. It is more drawing attention to the fact I cannot (most of the time) choose me. I have to choose my daughter, I have to choose my partner, I have to choose work. I have to choose the thing that will stop my life being worse. Which is not the same thing.

I choose the thing that will keep the peace. That will stop me from losing my mind. This is not necessarily the thing I would choose. Not always the thing I actually want. And while all these influencers can say "choose you" "focus on you" "prioritise you" I simply cannot do that. And yes, I chose the life I have, and I love it, but that doesn't mean there are not times where I desperately wish I could choose me.

I am slowly beginning to TRY and choose things for me. I am trying to push myself, but I am constantly afraid I'll overdo it and burn myself out and ultimately fail. I am trying to choose things I want to do, and not rush them. I'm not to desperately plough through what I want to do for fear of not being able to find time next time. I can find time, and I will. I am finally doing something I have been desperate to do, and I am working on it. Trying not to rush and to just get to the finish.

I am trying to choose me. After 32 years, I am trying.