THE GRITTY, MESSY REALITY OF NEW CHOICES
The Messy Reality of Evolving
Change is rarely comfortable. Fourteen years ago, when I left Australia for Amsterdam, I learned this firsthand. My first Christmas abroad was nothing like home—no prawns and oysters from Sydney's markets, no family lunch at my Aunt's place, no coaxing from Mum to go to church, no Boxing Day at the beach. Instead, I had snow and silence, and an unexpected sense of freedom that felt like a blank slate.
I quickly learned that evolving isn't about creating a picture perfect Instagram feed - and my did it look good back then. It's messy, unpredictable, and downright uncomfortable.
Listening to My Body's Signals
Over the last five years, I've learned that discomfort is my body's way of saying, "Hey, pay attention." At 45, I was suddenly seeing a food baby protruding after almost every meal— as though I’d just eaten a blow-up beaach pillow. It turns out that my hormones didn't get the memo about staying predictable. In welcoming perimenopause, my body was rejecting my old eating patterns. My solution was ultimately pretty basic but it took years to get to. Instead of obsessing over what I couldn't eat, I learned to focus on what I could and should. And now I ask myself daily, "What vegetables am I going to eat today?" and the protein and fats follow after that. I learned that getting in more fibre and whole, unprocessed, antioxidant-rich foods would combat the inflammation caused by my hormones going loopy. This took time, energy, a lot of discomfort and many small shifts to figure out.
Then two years ago, exhaustion was my closest companion. No matter how much I willed myself to feel more energised, I was always drained. My familiar instincts urged me to exercise through it, the way I did at 35. It didn’t work. I was more exhausted. A more intuitive, comforting me (where did she come from?) realised my body was craving something gentler. Over time some of my intense weights workouts gave way to long walks, slowly taking the many flights of stairs home (for those who know where I live, you either love it or loathe it), and stretching. Miraculously, these are working for me. Lifting heavy is still an essential part of my being, but it’s now twice weekly. My body at 50 is strong, brilliant, beautiful and responding to change.
Finally there were people's demands that started feeling suffocating and they made me angry —work, family, friends. There was rage I tell you. I eventually pieced together that my time and energy were precious. I had to actually figure out what I wanted, not just giving thinking that this was the way to receive. Now I say no to managing work tasks AND the symptoms of perimenopause as if I wasn't going through the biggest change of my life. I've stopped trying to maintain friendships with people who are insincere and avoidant. I won't be the one that takes on arranging ‘the thing’ just because I am a natural born leader, when it was someone else who suggested it. I say yes to things that nourish me. A coffee in the sun, a theatre visit, weekly therapy, writing these blog posts (also weekly therapy), or fifteen minutes of silence. And it's not selfish, we’ve talked about this! It's an enormous dose of deep self-respect.
The Courage of Solitude
This Christmas, I'm making a choice to sit in quite a bit of discomfort. I was tempted to escape back to the prawns, the family lunch, and with that, no doubt, church with Mum, but I've strangely opted for a perfect opportunity to quiet the distractions and listen to what's going on.
Instead of filling my time with noise or trying to escape the unease of being alone, I'm going to sit in it. Sure, it's going to be hideous at times—being by myself in a relatively new city, with a business to build and a broken heart to heal—but it's also an opportunity to keep making some progress on all of those fronts. Solo Christmas: where self-discovery meets potential mild existential crisis! Argghhh…..
And yet, when I allow myself to sit with discomfort, something shifts inside me. By not running away, I start to hear the thoughts and feelings I usually ignore. It's a quiet way of understanding myself, without all the noise and distraction of a typical Australian Christmas.
Embrace the Awkward Uncomfortable
"Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave" said Austrian Poet Rainer Maria Rilke. Sometimes, discomfort is the dragon, but it's only through being brave enough to face it that we discover the gifts it holds.
And if you're wondering, "Isn't it easier to just avoid it?" Trust me, I tried that for years - too many years. Embracing the mess, stepping into the uncomfortable, seems to be where the good stuff happens. Whether it's personal growth, creativity, getting yourself healthy and well, or finding the people that want to get stuck into the real work with you, discomfort is part of the package.
It's not glamorous, but it's where we learn things about ourselves we might miss if we're too busy avoiding the awkward. And honestly, sometimes the best way to grow is by just sitting there and letting it happen—awkwardness and all.
References:
Cameron, L. (2018). The Mindful Day: Practical Ways to Find Focus, Calm, and Joy from Morning to Evening. New Harbinger Publications.
Rilke, R. M. (2000). Letters to a Young Poet (M. D. H. Norton, Trans.). W.W. Norton & Company. (Original work published 1929).