If it’s not on the internet, did it actually happen?

We live in a very “connected” time, we all know that. (My mum called me worried once because I hadn’t been active on messenger for 19 hours and she thought something might be wrong!) We look at the world and see instagrampicture this and snapchat that. If we read an article we go on and share it on Facebook (the reason we read it in the first place was probably because someone else shared it and we couldn’t resist to click the link).

I recently closed down my Facebook account and deleted the Instagram app off my phone. Not because I don’t like it, but because I liked it too much. I found myself compulsively checking instagram, even though I literally was scrolling through it 40 seconds ago. How much could’ve happened? Why did I need to know?! It’s like when you have a bag of chips and you can’t stop eating; I had my phone and I couldn’t stop scrolling. I would sit on the sofa, thinking “I’m getting tired, I wonder what time it is” pick up my phone and find myself putting it down half an hour later, after looking at photos of “child actors now and then” or some other random crap I clicked on but wasn’t actually interested in. And still not knowing what time it was. So again, like with chips, a little bit is fine and yummy, but it’s easy to go overboard, downing the whole bag, which isn’t good for anyone and it will likely leave you feeling slightly nauseas. That’s how I would feel after binging on social media for too long, a little bit sick and like I’m just wasting my time, and my life, for no good reason.

So bye bye facebook, see you later instagram, welcome to stay snapchat because lets face it I don’t really know how to use you anyway. (I also deleted pinterest for two days, because it’s like a never ending well of glorious inspiration where I know I can spend countless hours if I let myself. But like the addict I am I succumbed to temptation and reinstalled it. I did set up some rules for myself though. And if facebook is a bag of chips, pinterest is more like, I don’t know, fruitsalad? You can have too much, but at least it has some nutrients.)

For the first couple of days I grabbed my phone to “check in” only to find an empty space where my much loved instagram app used to be. I also had a pretty major FOMO. But it actually went away fairly quickly. I remembered to bring a book to read on the train. I could watch tv without double screening (as much). I was more present with the kids and found myself enjoying moments more where earlier I might’ve been trying to get a good picture and think of a witty caption.

I still check Instagram on the computer every now and then. Once a week maybe, and every time I do I realise I don’t actually miss it that much (I get updates from my closest friends via snapchat and whatsapp, so I still feel like I’m “in the loop” with the people that really matter to me).

What I have found interesting is that by not sharing little pieces, I have given myself the space to formulate whole texts to share on the blog instead. Not that the blog is for sharing in the same way. If I put something on instagram I would be thrilled by all the likes I would get, and that would almost mean more than what I was sharing. Because lets be honest, it’s fun to get likes; it gets a bit addictive. Writing for the blog is different, someone might read, and that’s nice, but if not it doesn’t really matter. It’s more about putting my thoughts on paper and practice writing and sort of test-driving my opinions and air out my beliefs and see what comes out when I pick a subject and start writing.

I don’t expect I’ll stop sharing things anytime soon, but it’s refreshing to look at what I’m sharing, and why.


Slow it right down

I want to live my “dream life”. I mean, doesn’t everybody? What I’ve come to realise is that the dream life isn’t just a destination, but also the journey to get there (cheesy I know but bare with me).

I’m reading a book at the moment called “You are a badass” by Jen Sincero, where she writes “Where’s the fun in waking up at eighty-five and realising you ‘couldn’t find the time’ to enjoy yourself? What were you doing that was more important instead?”


Wouldn’t that be the worst thing ever? To get to the end of a long life realising you missed out on your dream life because you didn’t take the time to enjoy the journey?

Eating cold food because you had to get a good picture for social media, not enjoying the movie because you’re too busy researching the best anti-ageing cream online at the same time, telling your kids to “just wait a second” and miss out on precious moments because you’re just watching this funny put totally pointless little video a friend of a friend posted on Facebook.

I am guilty of all of the above, and that scares me. It scares me that all of these scenarios seem normal to me. That in the world we live in we are constantly connected, always distracted, endlessly busy.

I think it’s time to slow down, get “singletasking” instead of the revered multitasking, and stay present, here and now, appreciating all that life has to offer by doing less instead of more.

Breaking out of the rut

I said good-bye to my friend, who is also my sister in law, today. She is twenty-three and are going backpacking in South East Asia for a while. She doesn’t have a return ticket or a real itinerary.

I am so jealous!

Not in a mean or bad way, I’m super excited and happy for her, she totally deserves this trip and she’s going to have the time of her life. I guess I just wish that I could join her, is all. Obviously not an option when you haven’t worked and made any money for close to two years and you’ve got two little kids. (If I won the lottery, I would take the kids backpacking though, no doubt about that).

The reason I know she’ll have the time of her life is because I have done those kinds of trips, the “no-idea-where-I’m-going-or-when-I’ll-be-back” kinds. They’re a bit scary and intimidating, but also totally awesome!

I remember the very first time I went on a big trip and found myself on the Malaysian island of Langkawi. I swear the word ‘amazing’ was in every other sentence that came out of my mouth. I was blown away. Everything was new and exhilarating. I constantly saw things I’d never seen before (wild monkeys on the side of the road!) heard a new language, tasted new things and I was just so totally in the present moment because I didn’t want to miss out on anything!

I think that’s what I miss most about travelling, that presence and awe. It’s so easy to get stuck in a rut. And my rut is pretty nice really, which is why I’m stuck in it I suppose. You create habits and routines (which are lifesavers when you have kids) that work and when they’re in place you don’t stray much because it’s just easier to do what you always do.

But I realise today that it’s time to bring in some excitement again. Nothing crazy, maybe I’ll go to a new park or try a new recipe for dinner or simply put on a new playlist on spotify this afternoon, just something to break out of the rut, if only for a little while.

Life now, and life in the future

Another year and a half has “slipped by”. I have another baby. So now we’re a family of four. With a baby and a toddler. I’m a mother of two. It’s mind-blowing and scary as fuck because I sometimes think to myself “what if I can’t handle it, what if I can’t cope”. But then I do (I’m actually rocking this stay-at-home-mum thing. Most of the time anyways.)

I get up every morning and make breakfast and play with my daughter and feed the baby and cook and clean and go to the park and watch too much TV and try to force some vegies into the picky toddler and clean again and feed the baby again (and again and again and again) and have a shower and then it’s night night for the toddler and I get a couple of hours to myself and I practice yoga sometimes, read inspirational books sometimes but most of the times I eat chocolate and fall asleep in front of a cheesy cop show on Netflix! Phew, and repeat.

I love it!

Had I imagined life like this when I was 21 and backpacking and getting drunk every night on a beach in Malaysia I would’ve felt sorry for myself. Such a sad, sad, boring life. But things change, people change, and I’ve clearly changed. For that I am grateful. Actually, I’m grateful for everything I have created in life so far. For all the experiences I’ve had. The places I’ve been and the people I’ve met and every single little thing that has brought me to where I am today.

So. Incredibly. Grateful.

If I could stop time and live in this little pocket of time forever I might (but then again, a full nights sleep probably wouldn’t kill me).

Anyhow, I can’t stop time, things are ever changing and I realize that sooner or later this crazy, repetitive, blissful time will come to an end, and then what?

What do I want to do with my life? When the kids go to school and it’s time for me to reenter the “real world”.

Well, I’d rather not. (For the first time I can understand why some women just want to stay at home and have more babies. They’re soo cute, it’s soo cozy!). I’d rather not have to leave the house everyday to go and do a job that I’m not passionate about. That used to be my “real world”. Working in hospitality, making money to pay the bills and buy wine and clothes from the second hand store and tickets, always saving for tickets to go somewhere! I can’t say I hated hospitality because a lot of the time I worked in nice places with great people. But I don’t miss it, and I don’t want to go back.

So I’ve done some soul-searching (and read every motivational self-help, self-development, find-yourself-and-your-purpose book there is) and I know now that I want to a) work from home and b) I want to write. I have actually known this for over a decade but I’ve been too scared to do anything about it. Well, that’s not even entirely true, I took time off and wrote a draft for a book that is still sitting unedited in a drawer (my daughter use the back of the pages to draw on). I just never finished it. Because lets face it, I’m terrified. Terrified that I will “fail”, that I’m not good enough, that no one would read what I write, that it’s pointless.

Well, yeah, so there you have it. And to be fair I’m probably not good enough . Yet! Because I keep giving up. I keep starting and stopping and it’s getting me to nowhere. But at the same time, it’s getting me to; here. Again. This blog. Because I am ready to start again! And this time, well, this time the intention is to keep going!



Writing for the sake of writing

My baby is asleep.

I’ve had breakfast. I’ve done the housework. I even had the opportunity to sit in the sun and finish the book I was reading whilst Leo played in her baby gym.

Life feels good.

Later I’m going to practice yoga, eat lunch and go for a walk on the beach.

But right now I’m sitting here with a cup of coffee and a sense that I should “do something”, you know “be productive”. WHY? Why do I have to feel that way? If I sat down on the sofa and scrolled through instagram and facebook, I would feel like I wasted my time when Leo wakes up. I will feel bad that I didn’t “accomplish” anything.

I know this is the way we have been programed by society. Always a to-do list, always goals to reach, always something. 

This is becoming even more clear now that I’m “just at home with the baby”. It’s not that anyone else have told me I should get things done. I don’t believe anyone would be judging me if I chose to sit on the sofa and watch Netflix all day (which does happen, by the way). Being a mum is a hard and important job, and I feel like the people around me are totally on board with that notion. This nagging feeling of “should should should” is definitely coming from the inside.

And I’m torn between wanting to ignore it and just embrace “being not doing” and seeing it as motivation to actually get shit done. Edit the book. Think of a business plan. Read up on how to invest money. Deepen my knowledge of yoga. Learn a new language. There’s so much stuff that I could  do.

And writing a blogpost is one of them, I suppose. Because I do love writing. And I want to get better at it. And in order to get better at anything you have to practice.

Also, in the end of the day, I’m grateful for the days where I even have the time to sit around and think about this stuff, to get “bored”, to have a gap where it’s even possible to consider getting other stuff than “mumming” done.

And on that note, Leo is waking up, duty calls, time to go.

Till next time.