I blinked and I missed 2021! I feel like that’s the only way I can describe this year! When you ask me how my 2021 was, my intuitive response is “Oh it SUCKED!” and “It was a bit of a let-down compared to what I was expecting from it!”

So, I turned 30 a few days ago! To regular readers, I promise this is the last time I will bang on about turning 30. It just feels transformative so bear with me, please. I didn’t want to write this piece until I had actually turned 30 to give things time. And now that I have and my birthday was painless with no crying involved, I'm just going to come right out and say it.

I think 30 is a big age - it's the “This is it!” age. You can still be figuring out your sh*t in your 20s but thirties - pah - you better have it together in your thirties! But the older I get, the more I'm starting to suspect that no one actually has it all together. I think we are all just kind of making it up as we go along.

My parents put me on a matrimony site in June of 2016.

Last week I made a pretty raw post on here and I think through various posts, here or on Instagram, it’s pretty clear that I’m looking for love and singlehood isn’t exactly my jam. For some reason, there’s some shame and desperation attached to saying you want love.

I’ve thought long and hard about writing this post before because I was worried about how it would come across. The killjoy. The bitter old hag. There she goes again, drowning in self-pity. Eyeroll.

I used to think I know what I wanted to do with my life – my precious, precious life.

A career where I feel challenged in a good way, a marriage, kids, a home.

One thing I’ve learned is that being creative is not necessarily something that happens on its own. I thought painters, sculptures, writers, filmmakers just conjured things out of thin air. Turns out, sure, you can get inspired by watching a film or reading a book but sustaining inspiration and creativity requires practise, intention, and discipline.

One of the first ads I remember ever seeing in my life went like this: Girl gets engaged to guy. People who come to see the girl, i.e., the

“All right!” I tell myself as I sit down in front of the mirror, adjust it a little, and pick out the products I need. I look at my reflection.

Fireflies resting on windows: their incandescent glow, nature’s fairy lights. The sharp tang of a flared match right before it lights the