Millennial Musings

The husband is away for two weeks in December, as he embarks on an adventurous road trip through Europe. I got an invite to join, but the pull of being home alone with my cats with no one around was way more attractive. I politely declined the invite. “Crazy” some would say, to pass on an adventure holiday for a whole load of…nothing. No plans, no company and no fun.

The past year has been different…interesting and different. Having finished “Race Across the World”, I gladly threw myself back into my simple life routine. It’s like those two months of travelling never happened. For nearly a year I lived my usual quiet life. And then the show aired. An influx of attention and conversations and invites and everything else that came with being on TV. My Instagram, having always been public, suddenly became of interest. There is no doubt that I enjoyed it-my 5 minutes of fame, but it did start to take an insidious course. Suddenly everything had to be documented. My life was being lived through a lens for the applause of others. It was exhausting but I didn’t know it at the time. I had buried my reservations and carried on enjoying the attention. Thinking to myself, “Hey, maybe I am an extrovert after all!” Funny how a little bit of recognition can alter your mind into believing you are something else completely. Suddenly I had these visions of being someone I never thought I wanted to be. A media career? The next Oprah?! POTUS?! The sky is the limit. Power and fame really are corrupters. Not that I had much of it, but even that tiny dose of being in the media was enough to alter my brain chemicals for a while.

I remember attending the NTA’s in Autumn 2023. I was ready to take my newfound extroversion and rub shoulders with the rich and famous. Make some connections. Propel myself into my new life. The glitz, the glam, the red carpet, it was all so exciting. Never had I seen so many glamorous and beautiful “important” people in one place. Holly Willoughby complimented my dress! I shared a (social!) cigarette with Stacey Solomon. Everyone had a strut, surrounded with an air of their own importance. I noted there were many conversations being had, but very little meaningful words being exchanged. I saw a hall full of hundreds, each carrying the weight of their own fame twinned with their own loneliness. People were dressed to the nines physically, but emotionally in their loungewear. There is a strange feeling you get when you seem to be the only one that notices the fake façade of it all. It felt alien. It felt wrong. I took my drink and retreated to a quite seating area. Watching everyone doing the taught social rituals and dances. At one point, Mobeen came to find me to tell me Colin Salmon wanted to speak to me. His level of excitement suggested to me that Colin Salmon is probably quite famous and so I obliged, expecting the same superficial small talk I detested. But he spoke to me. Like actually spoke to me. It was the only meaningful discussion I had with anyone that night. We talked about religion, identity and how scary it can be to be different, to go against the grain. The irony of that conversation! I apologised to him that I was not familiar with who he was, and he smiled saying “no one important” He did not proceed to, as many others did, list his achievements and claims to fame. He was a breath of fresh air in a room stifled with insecurity and inferiority complex. Mobeen later jokingly chastised me saying I had spoken to a well-known Bond movies villain, and “he is so famous!” “He seems like a really nice man” was my response.

It was then that I realised I did not care for who was famous or well known. I did not care to be someone that was famous or well-known either. I did not want to be someone that walks around in my own bubble of self-importance and lists my achievements. I did not want an entourage and groupies or fans. I did not want to live a life for the praise or criticism of others. What mattered most to me was having meaningful connections, irrespective of fame and power.  

As the night went on, people got more drunk and disinhibited. The conversations evolved to be more meaningful, but incoherent given the level of intoxication floating in the room. I quietly suggested to Mobeen we take our leave.

Despite my previous thinking that I was transformed into an extrovert, my body told another story. In the past year I have had more bouts of physical illness and anxiety that I have over the past five years collectively. I never once got covid despite working in a hospital, and yet now, since I had started pushing myself to be someone I am not, my physiology was failing. My concentration was shot, my screen time was higher than ever, and I had so many sick days that I stopped counting. I did not feel like myself one bit. The experience at the NTA’s, coupled with the crisis in the Middle East, decided my fate. I was done with living a superficial, fake life. And so, I deleted all my followers (sorry! It wasn’t personal) and retreated to my home. I cancelled all the holidays we had planned, and cancelled all the relationships which were emotionally too taxing to maintain. As with any rollercoaster ride, when you abruptly stop, there is some whiplash. It took a few days, couple weeks, to adjust to being a nobody again. But the clouds have passed, and there is a clarity which has been absent for many months. I seem to have found myself again. And with any journey of self-discovery, I decided it was time to cut my hair 😊 because nothing signifies a new chapter more than a new hairdo. Amiright?!

And so, in December, when the husband is away having a ball on his holiday travelling and documenting his journey across Europe, I’ll be staying home having a ball of my own kind. I will read books, watch movies, cook, play with my cats, leave the house for work and come straight home to change into my PJs. I will go to bed at 9.30pm and wear cosy knits and drink coffee. I will sit in quiet solitude and be real with who I am. No cameras and no action. Just the way I like it. Just the way my soul craves it. I cannot bloody wait.