Back in December 2017 I wrote a post declaring that I’m not ready to be a mum, that perhaps I’d never be one or that I’d be an “old” mum, which is something that has been on my mind quite a bit lately – and before you ask: No I am not pregnant, and I won’t be for a while now, but I wanted to just talk about how over the past 9 months (ironic?) my mind has begun to change, as I have begun to grow up. 

I’m just going to say this too: No this isn’t a massive hint at my boyfriend to plant a baby in my womb and this is not me oogling on about how I definitely want one right now – because I don’t, but rather: What are my feelings towards motherhood and potentially having my own child?

If I were to get pregnant right now, due to circumstances and whatnot it’d be more of a “Oh god,” instead of an, “Oh yay!” reaction, but looking at the me today vs the me three years ago, or even the me nine months ago, mentally I’m a lot more present. I don’t know if I was going through something or if I’m going through something now, but the thought of being a pregnant lady and the thought of having to push that beast out of me doesn’t repulse me. The thought of wiping my childs bottom and cleaning sick up off my favourite t-shirt doesn’t repulse me, and the thought of being a mother: doesn’t repulse me.

I definitely think that the existence of my niece plays a role in this, there is such a thing as unconditional love whether it’s for your partner or for your family, for me it’s for both. But, the times when she’s laughing and being cute, the times when I’ve looked after her for an hour or two and the times where I’ve had to watch my sister change her nappy, there’s been no feelings of awkwardness, no feelings of “I couldn’t live with this,” because even though she’s not my daughter, in one way she is mine, because she’s my niece, my family and we share some blood.

So these feelings have obviously had me questioning if the auntie role has made me mature a little bit and get over myself, see the bigger picture and understand that there’s more to life than fantasising about traveling the world and making a million in the bank, there’s more to life than being selfish and only caring about me me me, there’s also more to life than caring about unnecessary things.

Looking at my life as it is right now: I’m happy. Things seem to be moving in the right direction and they seem to be moving at a slow pace but it’s not like these things aren’t happening, there’s lots of things I haven’t mentioned to anybody outside of my immediate family and there’s things that I share with you on a daily basis on my Twitter or Instagram stories, and I’m content.

When I switched up my blog layout last month I began going through old blog posts to decide which ones would be set to private and which ones could stand the test of time, when I was reading my posts it occurred to me that I’ve grown up a lot and it shows in my writing, with the amount of effort I choose to put into it, the subject matters most of the time and even the way I take pictures. I realised that I’m really an adult and my life is going to be changing a lot over the next twelve months, five years, ten years and it’s going to change before I even notice it, like it has.

Part of me always thought I’d stay sixteen forever (glad I didn’t), and I never saw my life ever moving forward or beginning to change, I never saw myself earning money, thinking about babies or seeing my sister move out and begin a life of her own, I was stuck in a little bubble that I escaped from before I even noticed.

But I’m glad life did move forward, I’m glad that I’ve grown up and that I’m still growing up, that I can look back and reflect on these times and old times and acknowledge that the me today, isn’t the me from yesterday or the me that will exist in years to come. I’m happy, even though the thought of time moving past is frightening, I’m also content.



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