Chasing Amy-Lou

“Apart from the realisation that I’m completely obsessed with Game of Thrones and have an unhealthy imaginary romance going on with Jon Snow, one in which he broodingly serenades me in his dulcet northern tones and protects me from White Walkers by shielding my body against the threat of the cold misty air…I can say that just as Jon Snow is pertained throughout the series to know absolutely nothing, I too, still, know nothing.”

While in Australia at the back end of 2014 and throughout most of 2015 I penned a few blog posts detailing how I felt about life, my situation, my perspectives; and I documented the things I’d learned about myself and other people since navigating that huge island in the Pacific Ocean.

Within six months of me returning to the U.K., I again wrote another blog explaining my feelings upon coming home; my struggle to settle and my desire to up and go again.

And now, exactly 12 months after I landed back on this teeny tiny island in the middle of the Atlantic, and a little under two weeks before I’m due to jet off (yet again) to the other side of the world, as well as increasing my knowledge of ‘stuff’ and ‘things’ and ‘life’, and partaking in a bit more ‘self discovery’ (loving these inverted speech mark references today); taking stock of all that’s happened in the last year, I have concluded that unsurprisingly I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with my life.

I’ll be 31 soon (gulp) and the fact I have no official plan, I have to keep telling myself, is ok. It’s ok to not have a plan. It is. Really. It’s ok.

So yeah, I’m totally lying here, I’m shitting myself. I’m 31 AND I HAVE NO PLAN! IT IS NOT OK! I have no boyfriend, no kids (I’ll save the egg freezing convo I had with my doctor for another time), no house, no job (career would be preferable as I would quite like a title again), not quite sure whether I want to live permanently in Australia and not quite 100% sure I want to stay in Britain (maybe I should just go to Spain quick, before they shut the borders – too soon for EU/Brexit jokes?) and no clue as to what I actually want to do with my life!

Society dictates that by the my age a woman should either have it all (mortgage, marriage, career and kids), or should at least be working towards having it all. I have neither. With this in mind, I decided I had to give myself two options: a) to wing it and to continue to walk through life wearing my rose-tinted specs, doing what I damn well want, not putting a label on things and not confining myself to a certain pathway, or b) to formulate some kind of back-up of a back-up of a back-up plan.

Trouble is, I made so many back-up plans and so many plan b’s that I couldn’t even remember what plan a was. Which is where the whole confusing conundrum of: ‘What am I doing with my life?’ comes in. Hashtag ‘argh!’ Hashtag ‘grow up’. Hashtag ‘mid-life crisis’.

Let’s break it down and look at the options then shall we:

a) go to Oz, love it, get sponsored, gain permanent residency, stay forever, marry an unassuming Aussie, have tanned, beach bum babies, live happily ever after. Yippee.

b) go to Oz, love it, sponsorship falls through, can’t find an Aussie to marry me out of pity, return home. Boo.

c) all of point b, study for my NCTJ, get placement, begin my official journalism career, move to Manchester. Yay!

d) all of point b, study to be a personal trainer, set up own business, move to Manchester. Yay!

e) all of point b, apply for a NZ visa, go to NZ, love it, get sponsored, gain PR, move to Australia. Woop!

f) all of point b, apply for a NZ visa, go, love it, can’t get sponsored, can’t find a Kiwi to marry me out of pity, come home, repeat points c or d.

g) all of point b, apply for TEFL teaching jobs in SE Asia, bugger off there for a year, travel some more, move to Spain, teach English, marry some unassuming Spanish dude, have bi-lingual, olive skinned babies, live happily ever after. Boom.

So you see…there’s plenty of options and plenty of plans…but…I don’t know what’s going to happen, do I?! I ain’t no Mystic Meg, I don’t have a crystal ball, and Russell Grant hasn’t been giving me tips on the ‘future of the stars’ and that’s what kinda scares me: The Unknown. The future. It’s that fear of not knowing, isn’t it?

Perhaps I should be grateful I don’t know what’s going to happen. Perhaps I should revel in the unknown. Perhaps, perhaps I should be excited about not knowing what’s around the corner? And perhaps I should do what everyone has been telling me to do for most of my life –  just let things run their course; after all, you can’t force things (except a really big poo, but that’s nothing to do with what we’re talking about now).

However (and there’s always a ‘however’), I almost feel as if I need something to aim for, something to work towards. For example, when I decided I wanted to join the Fire Service that became my aim and I put 100% effort into trying to achieve it. And I eventually did. But as I’ve ridiculously and stupidly given myself so many options, purely by overthinking things yet again, I’m unsure of which one to shoot for.

In all, I’m unsure of which one will make me the most satisfied and with which ‘plan’ I’ll be most happy (there it is, there’s that ‘happiness’ word again). Will one option be better than the other? Will I have made the right decision choosing option c instead of d? I guess I’m just a huge ball of confusion with too many ideas and too many goals. It’s not wrong of me to be like this, but it’s not necessarily the best idea either. And in essence, I guess I’m gonna have to learn to adapt, I’m gonna have to learn to let things run their course and try not to plan too much…I’m gonna have to be like water: I’m gonna have to fit around things, I’m gonna have to learn to go with the flow (terrible pun, terrible).

And just like Jon Snow in Game of Thrones (spoiler alert, soz), I may not know now that I am in fact a Targaryen; I may not know now what I’m genuinely capable of; I may not know now what my true destiny is, and I may not know now where I’ll end up in a few years’ time. What I do know is this: not knowing, although it’s frustrating and although it’s hard, may just be the best thing for me, as the journey and path of discovery could be the biggest and best adventure yet.

“As for me, I am the wisest man alive, for I know one thing: and that is that I know nothing” Socrates.