Starting Over in your Thirties...

Starting over in your 30s sounds exciting.

And it is.

But it's also a little strange.

By your thirties, you've usually built a life that feels pretty established. You have your routines, your favourite places, your people, your career, your home. You know what you're doing, or at least you feel like you should know what you're doing by now.

Then, sometimes, life throws you a curveball.

For me, that was moving to the other side of the world.

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Suddenly, things I'd completely taken for granted weren't there anymore. I didn't have my usual coffee spots. I didn't know where to go on a Saturday morning. I didn't have years of friendships around me. Even the simplest things, like knowing where to go or who to call, had to be figured out again.

And that's when I realised that starting over doesn't necessarily mean starting from scratch. You don't suddenly become a different person because you've moved somewhere new.

You bring everything with you.

Your experiences. Your career. Your mistakes. Your sense of humour. Your confidence. Your insecurities. All the things you've learnt along the way.

But you do have to find your feet again.

And I think that's the bit nobody really talks about.

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It's working out what your new normal looks like.

Who are your people?

What do you actually enjoy doing now?

What does a good weekend look like?

What parts of your old life do you really miss?

And what are you quite happy to leave behind?

I also think there's a funny expectation that by the time you're in your thirties, you should have everything pretty much figured out.

Career? Sorted.

Family? Sorted.

Home? Sorted.

Friendships? Sorted.

Confidence? Obviously sorted.

Except... are any of us actually sorted?

I'm certainly not.

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Moving to Perth has made me realise that maybe we're not supposed to be.

Life changes. We change. The things we want at 22 aren't necessarily the things we want at 32, and I'm guessing the same will be true at 42.

There are definitely days when I'd quite happily teleport myself back to York for a familiar coffee and a catch-up with a one of my besties, but then there are moments when I'm sitting somewhere beautiful, watching a sunrise or sunset, coffee in hand thinking, okay... I actually really like it here.

Maybe that's what starting again looks like.

Not some huge transformation where you suddenly have everything figured out.

Just slowly building a new version of your life.

Finding your favourite coffee shop. Working out where you actually like going on a Sunday. Making new friends. Getting into a routine. Having a few places that start to feel like your places.

And every now and then, realising that somewhere that once felt completely unfamiliar is starting to feel a little bit like home.

Three years in, I'm still figuring it out. And honestly, I think that's okay.

Sar x