Is it time to grow up? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself repeatedly, for what feels like forever. The answer has always been a stoic ‘NO!’, but maybe that’s because I associate being grown up with being old, sensible and boring.
That said, being old doesn’t necessarily always equate to being grown up. An elderly lady who I had the pleasure of being sat next to on the bus this week is a prime example of that. Her words of wisdom (bellowed across the bus as her friend got off) were, ‘Don’t be good, you won’t enjoy yourself!’ She turned to me, her twinkly eyes beaming out from beneath her hard earned, characterful wrinkles, and said knowingly, ‘It’s true you know’.
So, how does one find the ultimate work, life, and relationship balance? At 37 years old, I know I’m no longer a spring chicken. Yet, I live like I’ve barely hatched. In some ways, this is a good thing. In others, not so much. It’s great to have a bright, breezy, free spirited attitude, don’t get me wrong, but I also long for more from life. This year, more than ever, there have been times when I wish I hadn’t stayed out so late, when I wish I was more sorted financially and had my own house, when I should’ve been more dedicated to my physical and mental wellbeing, when I wish I could have a dog, or be responsible enough to think about having children.
I know how lucky I am to have a wonderful career, and to live in a lovely part of London. I’m so thankful to have 3 nephews and a newborn niece, my cats, and an awesome family and so many incredible friends. But – I want more. Is that greedy? I don’t think so. It’s simply a life goal.
Up until a few months ago, I didn’t really think about the whole settling down thing (Settling down sounds so much better than ‘grow up’ so we’ll stick with it for now). Something has changed in me recently. It’s hard to pinpoint, but for once, I’m ok with it rather than being petrified at the very thought of perfecting the art of ‘adulting’. For instance, as I write this, I’m sat in the café in the gorgeous Dulwich Park, with a Smoked Salmon Bagel (plus Avocado, obvs) and white Americano on the go. This might sound perfectly normal to you. But – it’s 11am. On a Sunday morning.
Usually, I’m fast asleep at this time on a Sunday. I would’ve had a late night after much drunken merriment with my friends, and staggered to bed at some ungodly hour, rising after noon with a stonking hangover. I’d glug a pint or 2 of water, have a Berocca, as many painkillers as I’m allowed, then get myself together before going to the pub for a post night out Roast and several Bloody Marys. That, in a nutshell, is standard behaviour. A textbook Horobin weekend.
Instead, today I got up, hangover free at 10 to 8. I had a pint of water and some Vitamin C. Then on went the freshly laundered gym kit and I hit the gym for a BoxFit class at 9AM. 9AM. On a SUNDAY?! Do you know what? It felt absolutely AMAZING. I woke up to see the Autumn sun shining, the gorgeous blue skies, and there was hardly a sound other than happily chirping birds. Breathing in the fresh, crisp air and feeling alert and healthy, it really did feel good for the soul.
So, here I am, after a brisk walk to the park, looking forward to that Bloody Mary and Sunday Roast, which will brilliantly, be enjoyed hangover and guilt free. I want to feel like this more often. I’ll never hang up my party girl shoes completely, but this feels right. Settling down will no longer be viewed as being dull and boring. If anything, it’s the opposite. I’ve had SO much fun this morning. I feel AWESOME. Genuinely. Something has clicked, and I don’t want to look back.
I’m finally entertaining the idea of starting to look towards the future, rather than frittering my life away, on of the moment frivolity. The idea of being with Mr Right doesn’t scare me so much anymore, despite bad experiences in the past. I am also thinking more about what I previously always said would never happen – a family? Most of all, it’s exciting to feel like this. I want to actually embrace it.
All I know is, anything is possible. Maybe the two words I have such disdain for aren’t so bad after all. Maybe it really is time to grow up. Just a little though. After all, as the elderly lady on the bus said ‘don’t be good, you won’t enjoy yourself!’ Amen to that.