Work Hard, Party Hard and Be Kind

This picture is on my kitchen wall. It is the nearest thing we have to "house rules". I love the geometric pattern, the vibrant colours and the bright yellow frame. I particularly love the simplicity of the message. It was a surprise gift from a family friend after I’d admired it on a shopping trip. It says it all really.

Work Hard

Work hard was my survival strategy for so long. I worked hard at school as I hoped good grades would get me to university and away from my childhood home. I was lucky as I was academic and school was my safe haven from the chaos at home, so I liked working hard. I got my grades and went to university to study law. I never really intended to be a lawyer but I didn’t know what else to do. I was good at maths but I didn’t want to do a maths degree, I didn’t fancy accountancy so I chose law as I thought it would be a good business-type course. Wrong! There was nothing about business and I naively thought the law was a bit like maths, black and white. It’s legal or it’s illegal. Wrong again! There is much grey between the black and white and my law degree involved lots of research and reading cases as well as textbooks. I found it really boring but I stuck at it and managed to graduate with a training contract offer in my bag from a big London law firm. That same law firm paid my law school fees as well. I had worked hard and done well but I knew I was lucky too. I worked hard at law school and preferred that course as it was much more practical. And then my legal career started. I worked hard as a trainee and then as a qualified solicitor. I worked hard, very hard, to ensure I stayed in a job as I knew I had to be able to look after myself. No-one else was going to support me and going back "home" wasn't an option.

That work hard ethic helped me survive initially but then led me to burn out and breakdown. I still work hard but I am redefining what working hard looks like for me. It is hard to absorb that what I am doing now is work. I create a weekly podcast where I get to talk to wonderful people or talk about a topic that interests me. I write newsletters and blog posts. I coach wonderful clients who want change in their lives. I have written a book and it might not be the only one. I am creating workshops so I can work with more people who want help. Work to me has always been relentless, stressful, super high-pressure. There have been some great highs but some terrible lows. The constant feeling of it never being enough, no matter how hard I worked. I am beginning to understand that the only one pushing me now is me and if I say it’s enough then it’s enough. I get to choose my hours, my way of working, my clients. I GET TO CHOOSE. It is work, it’s a new kind of work and I love it.

Be Kind

I know this is out of order but I want to leave Party Hard until last. Being kind to others isn't something I have to work on; that is something that comes naturally to me. I will find time for people who really need my support, I will go the extra mile to help someone out, I will be as kind as I can be to everyone I meet and I find it easy to put myself in others’ shoes and help them through whatever they are going through. It's an easier way to live, to be kind and expect the best of people as they rarely disappoint. Being kind to myself has been a tougher job altogether. Growing up I believed (because often I was told directly) that I was boring, I was fat, I was useless. As a result, I felt unlovable and unloved. My way to deal with this was to push harder; work harder, help more people, do everything I possibly could to be needed. I equated being needed with being loved. It was the path to burn out and breakdown and I did both a number of times over the years from age 22 to 47. My last breakdown 5 years ago was a biggie and sent me off to therapy. It was during my 3 years in therapy that I learned that I had to be kind to myself. Talk to myself like I would talk to a good friend. Why is it that we can be caring and supportive of our friends but when it comes to ourselves the words we use are SO harsh? It took a lot of practice to talk to myself in a compassionate, supportive way. It wasn’t a quick fix but over a few months I learned how to be the kind, supportive parent for myself that I’d never had as a child. It was truly transformative. I also learned that I had to do things that I wanted to do instead of letting my wants and needs go unmet in favour of keeping everyone else happy. I prioritised others and in the process I consistently abandoned myself. That behaviour is not sustainable long-term as it leads to resentment, anger and frustration and a host of other things. I have learned to put myself first sometimes, quite a lot of the time in fact, and that my wants and needs are every bit as important as the wants and needs of others. This too has been transformative.

Party Hard

Party hard. Now this is an interesting one for me. I have had my fair share of partying over the years. Mainly during the three years I lived in London in my mid-20s. I worked hard at my first proper job, shared a flat with three other girls and we had a great time. Worked hard and partied hard. There was a lot of alcohol involved, most weekends, and we did some fun things. A friend of ours grew up in Surrey, which is not that far away, so we spent a few weekends at his parents’ house (when his parents were away) BBQing, messing about in the pool and generally having a rowdy old time in the huge garden. One weekend I went to the New Forest to meet up with friends, missed the last train back to London so had to get the early morning train on Monday morning and buy new work clothes on Oxford Street before going to work. I always thought buying clothes on the way to work on a Monday morning is the sign of a good weekend! It was certainly great fun at times but a lot of it was spent desperately trying to fit in so the fun was tinged with anxiety and a real sense that just being the real me was not enough. The real me wanted less alcohol, less rowdiness and more deep connection. I can say that now with the benefit of hindsight but I didn’t really know it then. I was too busy keeping up with everyone else and to understand what the real me needs requires stillness and quiet and those were two things I never gave myself. That was until 2017 when burnout, breakdown and depression stopped me in my tracks and forced stillness and quiet upon me. It was time to breathe. To feel all the feelings, To uncover the real me.

It turns out that the real me still wants less alcohol, less rowdiness and more deep connection. Not a surprise really as the core inner me is still the same. The surprise is in the realisation of the real me, what I want and the understanding of the circular nature of reality because what I want is to just be the real me and that be enough. I think I have found my new idea of a party and it involves spending time with people with whom I experience a deep connection and talking about the things that are meaningful to us. Laughing too. My 50th birthday was the first year I’d really celebrated since my 30th (which was a disaster!). It was an unassuming afternoon gathering in our home on my actual birthday (which helpfully was a Sunday). At one point around 3pm I looked around my kitchen and saw around 25 of my dearest and closest friends and it filled me with such joy to know that they were in my kitchen to celebrate my birthday with me.

It is totally ok to define partying as whatever is meaningful to us. This year, 2022, I have realised that I know how to work hard and be kind but what I want to do more of is party hard, in a way that is meaningful to me. More time with good friends, making meaningful connections and laughing a lot. If possible, I am going to choose the playful option whenever I need to make a decision, I am going to have as much fun and experience as much joy as I can. That is my way to party hard. 2022, here I come!