But the other day it had told me to “Take a leap before looking”, and I laughed at it, because that was exactly what I was doing. I’m sat at the balcony of my room at the Constance Ephelia, in … SEYCHELLES. Taking my first ever solo trip to quiet my mind. Well that’s a phrase I didn’t think I’d ever say, but here we are.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Abbie.

I’m not just turning a page, I’m starting a whole new chapter. I’m taking the good out of all this and I’m starting a new chapter. I have feared the unknown so much that it has restricted me from living my life. ACTUALLY living my life. The what ifs that paralysed me then, still do … but I’m slowly learning to let go of the crutches. I’m slowly learning to walk on my own two feet. It’s fucking scary, needless to say. I’ve been floating about for so much of my life, and I’m in my fucking 30s. It’s fucking now or never.

Get off the wooden pallet you’ve clung on to for decades, Abbie. FUCKING. TAKE. A. LEAP.

Weeks ago, I had asked my friends, what if jumping off would be the biggest mistake of my life? What if this is actually all I’m really meant for, just this? Not sad, not happy, just this? Just floating through life? And one of them said, “Well, that’s a risk you have to take“. And that was the answer I needed. I don’t think my Mother carried me in her womb for 9 months … just to feel this way for the rest of my life.

I asked myself if it was wrong for me to want more out of life, out of my life, to want more for myself. I spent so much time telling myself that I was not deserving, that whatever good was happening and will happen in my life can’t ever be mine, and it dragged me to one of the darkest episodes of depression I’ve ever experienced in my life.

But I had a moment with the Universe. I sat up in bed, drenched in my own tears and I said, “No.” I’ve been doing my best to make peace with the World since then, as I begged it to give me just this one thing.

I’m a simple girl with simple needs in life. I’ve known this since I was 6. That’s all I want. It’s not being dependent on someone, it’s to be seen. I don’t think I’ll ever want anything else.

I have to fight for this. For me to be able to live a life that would bring me contentment, not just happiness. Contentment. A far cry from “settling”.

I know that this isn’t something people would get behind. I’ll be judged for my decisions. I’ll be called names, but they haven’t lived my life, have they? They will say all they want because it’s always easy to say things when you’re on the outside looking in. But they don’t know what it’s like to be me. I have to remind myself of that, especially when I’m bombarded with questions and unsolicited advice.

My Mother died at 51. I think I pretty much owe it to the both of us to be brave. If I’m wrong, then I’m wrong. But I think I’ll be fine.

Back to the drawing board I go, at 33. Fuck that. It’s never too late to try to live.

Here’s to the steering wheel.