The Ten Year Challenge

Since everyone is doing the 10 year challenge, I thought that I would have a look at how I have changed over the last 10 years.

In 2009, I was 9/10 years old. That year I moved house and school, away from all of my friends and everything that I knew. I made new friends and went from being an outgoing, never-in-the-house little girl to an introverted bibliophile who only really socialised at school. I excelled in my studies and learned my way about living in Scotland’s biggest city after spending my childhood in a suburban community. And I began making plans for my future:

At 10 years old, I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do with my life, although I did have ideas – a nurse, a wedding planner, a teacher, a mathematician (I know, I was a nerd). I did know my dream job – an author – but society didn’t encourage you to pursue unrealistic goals, so I quarantined books and writing to being a hobby and dedicated all of my free time to it. By then, I had started saving for going to university because even if I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do I knew that I enjoyed my studies. I pictured myself travelling during my time off to anywhere I could afford and trying new and amazing things with the amazing group of friends that I would surely have. I pictured myself probably in a relationship (it was around this time that I started to question my sexuality), and I knew that I would be half-way through my first university degree. Maybe I would be studying in England, maybe I would have my own flat somewhere, maybe I would have managed to finish writing a novel. There were ‘maybes’ and there were ‘definites’ – or so I thought.

I didn’t think that 2019 would start with me having to give up my basic accounting job because I was too ill. I didn’t think that I wouldn’t have even started my university degree yet because I was too ill to manage it. I didn’t think that I wouldn’t travel very often because I was too ill to manage it. I didn’t think that I would have hardly any friends because I had been housebound for so long that they had forgotten about me. I didn’t think that I would have had to turn down offers from universities in England because I had to stay near family in case I became more ill. I didn’t think that I would be unable to move out because I couldn’t take care of myself, and that I would be constantly apologising to my boyfriend and my family for being a burden. I didn’t think that I would be too ill to read or write for any longer than a few minutes at a time. I didn’t picture myself being disabled.

Life has a funny way of surprising us, not always in a good way. My life isn’t what I had hoped it would be, but that doesn’t mean that it is all bad. I have an amazing, loving boyfriend who is willing to take care of me (in sickness and in health); I know who my real friends are and I am incredibly close to them; I appreciate my academic studies and care more than ever about getting my degree in English Literature; I love my family and appreciate everything that they do for me; I have gotten stronger and know myself better than I thought I would at 19 years old; I make every day, every trip out of the house count and they are amazing memories that I treasure and recall when things get hard. I’m not saying that I don’t wish I was well, or that I could have done my degree sooner, but I learned a lot from being ill and I grew enough that I now appreciate everything good that life gives me and (although I don’t always manage it) I do try to stay positive and see the good in every situation. So maybe my life isn’t perfect and maybe it isn’t what I dreamed of, but it is perfect to me and if things hadn’t happened like they did then I wouldn’t have the amazing people in my life and the amazing memories that they have helped me create, and I wouldn’t change that.