So it’s the start of a new year (well a Hindu one anyway) and like everyone who sees the new year as a time to make resolutions and set some personal goals, this blog is the first step towards achieving one of mine – more about that in a bit.
So who am I and why am I here? The non-existential answer to this (apologies if you were expecting something more abstract) is I’m Reena, a lady within touching distance of her 40th birthday, wife and mother of two amazing boys who loves to dance, wear outrageous lipstick and… write.
I grew up in a traditional Indian household, did well at school and went to a world class university where I studied Law and subsequently became a property lawyer. I got married and moved to suburbia where I spend my time constantly playing catch up as to whether its Christmas Donation Day or some other ‘Day’, ferociously shopping on Amazon Prime for last minute costumes for the kids’ various school ‘things’ (whilst berating myself and affirming with iron resolve that I’ve got a year to prepare for next year’s event), mastering the under 30 minute meal prep time (hint: usually pasta) oh, and actually working for a fantastic not-for-profit organisation helping to restore justice when things have gone a bit awry. Chuck in a bit of socialising with old uni friends and fellow harangued mums and the odd bit of random Bollywood dancing in the kitchen reminding me of my youth, and that’s pretty much me.
A perfect world?
Sounds idyllic doesn’t it? Happy family, good health, means to pay my bills and a job that makes me feel like I’m righting the wrongs of the world. But (there has to be a ‘but’ otherwise this would be as boring as sin) something didn’t feel right. I kept wondering in those rare moments of peace (you can literally count them on your hands post-children) if this was it. Was this my story to be played out until I retired? And how come the more I devoted myself to my children, the more I seemed to detach from me? What’s that all about because I sure didn’t read any sections on this when I was swotting up on night time routines and baby led weaning?
Zoom forward and I met a super amazing coach (happy to share details). In my first call, I said “I’m not feeling right, I think I need to change my job” and rather than shake her head in the “that’s what you think” manner, she helped me explore my childhood ambitions and my life’s journey. Turns out, I’ve always loved reading and writing which is why I’ve gravitated towards careers where I could do this (how did I not know this?!) and I remembered with crystal clear clarity that I’d always wanted to be a journalist. I’d written articles and published my school’s first ever year book but when faced with university choices and eager to please my parents, I took the safer and more perceptively respected route – and I don’t regret that.
But here I am faced with a choice of carrying on my perfectly pleasant – albeit somewhat disorganised – life or dipping my toe into the unknown.
And this is how this blog was born (I had to Google search what the word blog actually meant – it’s a document logged on the web for those dinosaurs like me who still miss ring binders of paper and colourful tags).
so what’s next?
Now enlightened by the knowledge I’ve buried for over 20 years that I love to write, I’ve decided to put fingers to keyboard and see what comes out. Handing in my resignation and declaring that I’m now a self-professed writer would be neither practical financially or emotionally healthy because all I’d do is stress about writing, not write, stress and so on. So I’m going to do this slowly and see what happens, and I’m inviting you to join me on my journey because it’s always better to have someone with you when you’re walking alone in the dark (that must be an ancient proverb or at least a message from the Metropolitan Police). If you can relate to how I’m feeling or have that inkling of “what would happen if I tried…?” then hopefully you’ll take some inspiration from this and please feel free to share your stories with me.
So this is my maiden blog. It’s quite cathartic (and a bit scary) putting myself out there but I also know that whatever happens, I never want to look back on my life and think “what if…?”. Are you with me?
Until next time, bon voyage (and that is literally the extent of my knowledge of French),