On Turning Thirty Eight

So as I start this, it’s four minutes until my birthday. I’ve already had my first kind birthday wish from someone in another time zone and the children are all asleep while I catch up with work.
Earlier in the week I was reading Adele’s rather lengthy explanation about exactly what her notoriously difficult third album is about  and it got me thinking about how my life has changed.

I was married at 25. I spent many hours of that year angsting over lace patterns, china patterns, my dress size and seating charts. Being married and the support of my DH gave me the confidence I needed to change my career and start again. I spent my 26th birthday on my first day of work experience at a magazine.

Malcolm Gladwell reckons it takes 10,000 hours to make someone an expert and I’ve certainly put them in over the last twelve years.
Many many hours spent on the phones, going through clips, checking Lexis for old stories to revisit, at press launches for random items, writing copy for competitions that few fancied, engaging with community users about what they love and moderating arguments about topics that many really don’t care about followed that Monday spent making the tea.

I certainly never imagined that by this age, not a milestone in anyone’s book, that I would have four small children and a fledgling business of my very own. I would have done it sooner but you know, life happened.

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