Good bye 20's. This is 30.
30, Flirty and Thriving.
Remember that movie? 13 going on 30. I had it on video, literally loved it. 30 seemed so old to my tweenage self, but the movie spoke to me on so many levels. A. because I wanted to be able to do the Thriller dance routine, B. I loved Mark Ruffalo and C. I wanted to be a Journalist. The glossy magazine office looked so exciting, even if this wasn’t where her best self came to be.
Come to think of it all my favourite movies throughout my teenage years involved some kind of magazine office and the exciting world of writing, give or take The Notebook.
Writing always seemed to be apart of what I wanted to do. It involved over time from being in magazine to being a columnist like Carrie Bradshaw. On a college photography trip to New York City aged 17, even my teachers said they could see me living there, writing, taking photos.
So, what does 30 years of age actually look like now?
Well it looks like a full cycle. Back to writing. I’m not sure of the moment I stopped wanting to write. But I remember the moment I decided I should start a career in catering.
I was 22 and travelling. I enjoyed working in cafes, enjoying the social life of working in catering events. I like the weird hours and the instant money. Money translated to more travelling. Travelling I had previously documented and blogged about every step. But a break up from my then boyfriend/travelling partner, plus having too much fun with my new travelling friends, plus working funny hours to earn money to party more with new said friends meant I just kind forgot to document it.
I knew Journalism was no longer for me. I hated the idea of being in an office. The work experience I had done hadn’t been a good experience. I loved the idea of freelance writing but I knew that wasn’t going to pay me right now. I needed instant money. Oh how I wish I hd stumbled across all the blogging knowledge I have done in the past year and blogged about my travels in the right way. But it wasn’t meant to be and the catering world called me in and that’s where I’ve been for the last 7 years.
Until I had my daughter and the blogging world called me back.
Maybe my teenage self had all the answer after all?…
The funny thing is, for the last 7 years I’ve discredited my 17 year old self and how silly she was to think I could become a writer. “Why did she choose to do a journalism degree?” “Sure I enjoyed every minute of my journalism degree but it’s not going to serve me in my catering career for the rest of my life.”
Or was she right all along? Was my 17 year old self’s dreams about writing in a New York apartment like Carrie silly? or like I know now totally on point!!
Okay I’m not in New York, I’m back in my home town, and completely happy about that. I realised the city life wasn’t for me long ago, I love my garden to feature in much of my writing. (17 year old Hannah wouldn’t have predicted that). But the rest….. yep, completely on point.
The problem was the decade of my 20’s, while a wonderfully fun one, and in many ways productive (mortgage, birthing a child and all that) told me that I should be making money, climbing my way up the ladder, that I should be in an establishment.
What if none of that was true?
If Covid-19 has taught us anything over the last 3 months, it’s that everyone can work quiet easily from home (apart from the catering business but hey). That the small businesses, the ones that work from home, or in a small studio are the ones we want to survive. Doesn’t that say something against “the establishment”?
Every day I read the blogs, follow the Instagrams and talk to women the same age as me who are working on their terms. Writing for a living, making clothes for a living, taking photos for a living, working on the dream they had as a teenage, just a slightly more futuristic version of it (none of us could have dreamed up social media the way it is now).
Isn’t that exciting?
Isn’t that exciting that that’s what my 30’s could look like?
so what did the rest of my 20’s look like?
It was pretty good to be honest. Dream career (or lack of it) aside.
I graduated, went travelling for 15 months, worked on the beach back at home, went travelling again for 5 months. Came back to meet my lovely Mat, got some free step sons, learnt to drive, broke my leg. Two operations and 4 months laid up later we brought our house (moved in on crutches), oh and I had a baby. Yeah it was alright…..
