Photos by Kaye Ford

It’s my 28th birthday!

And, of course, I couldn’t let the moment pass without a little post.

Ten years after legally being classed an adult, I’m beginning to kind of feel like one? It’s been a wild ride, but for the first time in a decade I feel settled, more like myself than ever, and not as though I’m racing to do something that doesn’t quite feel right.

In my early twenties, I felt determined to hit the ground running after Uni and chase a dream of becoming a fashion writer. In a very roundabout way, I achieved this goal about 4 months into Adult Life and then subsequently clung desperately to the role(s) for several years. After all, nobody tells you that it’s actually okay not to stay committed to one path for your entire life.

My mid-twenties were all about shaking the equilibrium. I moved to Hong Kong on a whim, tried my hand at dating apps, had my heart broken a number of times, and after a series of unrelated occurrences, ended up back where I began. Home.

At 28, I feel content. I’ve successfully steered my career to that of a business owner. Acquired a pup who encourages me to be somewhat responsible. Found my fitness footing at the gym and Barre. Learned how to portion pasta (and completely ignore the rules when cooking anyway). Honed a handful of awesome friendships with incredible gal pals. Maintained a relationship with a boy I first met and borderline obsessed about 10 years ago.

It’s been pretty great.

Although I’ve documented how I’ve felt stagnant lately, it’s taken me writing this post to realise that life isn’t just another rat race. And I shouldn’t worry about constantly having to do something new. In fact, I don’t need to worry about imposter syndrome or the fear of not being busy/being too busy, because things are pretty damn great as they are and I’m working hard enough dammit.

Here’s to 28. I can’t wait for you.

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