Could you tell me a time you felt at peace?

Peace isn’t something I feel often, what with trying to pay bills, support myself, support my sister and help my dad in the few ways I can. I tend to push myself way too hard in what I assume to be an attempt to escape the past few years. When your world is turned completely upside down it’s easy to lose control of it, to start doing things you know you shouldn’t, to forget that you even need to look after yourself. I tried going out, drinking into the early hours of the morning and spending money on whatever would do the worst damage. I don’t like to paint it as desperate, but let’s just say I wasn’t at my best. Then I tried work, and I worked and worked and worked. Maybe if I poured enough pints I would forget what had happened.

You don’t need to be told that none of that worked.

Time was the biggest healer, and quite frankly the only thing that allowed me to realise that I wasn’t in control, and that was okay. Or more importantly, that I wasn’t to blame for any of it.

Society seems to be on this big move toward self-love, body-positivity and feminism, with a big focus on mental health awareness and self-care. If you pay close attention you’ll have seen the shift in the way adverts are made, in what you overhear at the pub, in what’s acceptable in the workplace, and mostly in the overall attitude of social media users. Scrolling the likes of proud big-bodied girls in bikinis, free nipples, poems of love and respect and selfies that beam with self-worth are, thankfully, more common. I love that we’re all “feeling ourselves”, I do.

So, I guess what I want to say about peace is that it’s been nice to eventually find peace in myself. Those who know me know that I don’t care for anyone’s opinion, that I am always true to who I am, that I am strong and kind and proud. It wasn’t always like that. It appears that I’ve experienced the way the world is changing in real-time. I’ve learnt that I am exactly who I am meant to be, and I’ve made my peace with that.