Content: are we ever?

The threads of thoughts, feelings, needs and wants that weave themselves into everyday life are so fine. You choose certain colours and materials, if you will, that seem paramount to the tapestry of your happiness and self-worth. The vibrant must-have outfits, glittering latest iPhone, the rare attention of a disinterested other and the sturdy fabric of an impressive career are just some of the ingredients that, on paper, make the cake that we call ‘contentment’.

Unless you can honestly claim to be devoid of any longing to be accepted or admired by others (if so, bravo), the majority of us crave the green-light, the go-ahead and ratification from those around us. We can spend months, years, even decades searching for approval. Be it adhering to the expectations of loving parents, attempting to consolidate past accomplishments or desperately trying to keep up with the ever-developing trends and tastes of the modern world: the list of opinions to consider is endless. In my experience, no matter what you do, it can often feel like you’re missing the mark. Choosing one path can often cancel out another one – leading to incomplete aspirations and inevitably back-tracking on past promises.

Having been lucky enough to have been born into a family that cares for me and to have met friends who have supported me, my existence so far has, on paper, been plush. If anything, the amount of love I’ve always had has been overwhelming. Overwhelmingly wonderful. Despite this however, my pursuit for contentment is yet to come full circle. As someone who has always been uber sensitive about growing older, my 24^th birthday has brought with it a cloudy sense of self. My parents were married with a career by the time they were my age: I am single (sense the bitterness) and currently in search of a career. The difference is stark (no sign of Rob Stark, regrettably). When I was a little girl, I definitely didn’t picture the life I have now in my crystal ball of prediction – think zoo keeper with a Leonardo DiCaprio lookalike in the mix. My roaring twenties certainly haven’t been devoid of glittering parties and the occasional sequin dress, but Gatsby and his millions are yet to make an appearance.

It’s hard to pin-point what components you need to make a nest a happy one. Birds need twigs, mud, feathers and leaves. You may be a bird with plenty of plumage … but sometimes self-doubt can make you feel featherless. Cold, uncomfortable and unable to fly. I am in the process of realising that the wind under your wings doesn’t have to blow at the same speed as everyone else. You may not have it all mapped out in your tender twenties, but what you will have is the opportunity to do whatever you like. If you have nothing in place yet, that only leaves more room to build whatever life you like. In the end, your own self-belief and self-approval is limitless in its value. Try not to let what seems like disapproval from those around you, a dwindling bank account or a seemingly blank CV steer you away from feeling like a boss. Be the boss of your own business.

Rhi x