This is me. It’s not a selfie, because I’m rubbish at selfies. It was taken by my husband on Boxing Day and is the most recent photo of me in existence.
I’ve written a lot about myself since I started blogging – that’s what blogging pretty much every day for three and a half years can do to a person. So what can I say about myself that I haven’t said before, that regular readers won’t already know?
And then I realised. This photo shows me looking happy. And I am happy. Pretty much all of the time. Happier than I’ve been for as long as I can remember, possibly happier than I’ve ever been in my whole adult life.
My new life suits me. I take a great deal of pleasure in walking my own kids to school every day and picking them up. I like to be able to go to all the school events without worrying how I’m going to fit it round work or, sadly, being forced to give them up altogether. When the school phones to tell me my son has banged his head in the playground and they’re not sure if he’s OK, I can just go to see him immediately – I don’t need to sit in an office 10 miles away panicking about whether I should get my mum to go to him or my husband. Because I just drop everything and I’m there myself in five minutes.
And while the kids are at school, I work. I write things for other people – press releases, articles and bits of web copy. I proof read and edit articles and educational materials. I tweet on behalf of clients. And I feel happy doing it. I have enough work to keep me busy and earn me money, but not so much that I feel stressed and overwhelmed. And when it gets to 3.15, I stop working and don’t think about it again until the next morning.
My new found happiness means I’m a nicer person to live with. Of course my kids still stress me out daily in the mornings and at bedtime, because that’s just what kids do, but I take it in my stride. I don’t shout at them. I don’t argue with my husband. I don’t have the underlying feelings of anger and unhappiness that I always had when I went to an office to work – the feelings I thought would always have, the feelings I didn’t even realise were caused by work.
So that’s me. I’m happy.
This post was written in response to a prompt at Sticky Fingers. Pop over to see how others have interpreted the theme ‘me’.