18 years apart

Whilst having a clear out in my home office yesterday, I found a photograph of me which was taken when I was 18 by my boyfriend's (at the time) father. Which gave me my blip thought for the day. How different am I?!

18 years later, how have I changed...not just physically, but in who I am. My journal for today is going to be reflective.

18 years ago, I was going out with a boy called Alex, who I loved to bits. He was tall, and handsome and I know that he loved me too. We were together for nearly four years. I changed, my feelings weren't the same anymore and I split up with Alex just shortly after my 21st birthday. I know I hurt him. Fortunately, in the last year or so, we have got back in touch and I think that time, and life, has healed wounds, and its nice to have had some contact via email to catch up.

After spltting with Lexy, a couple of disastrous and shortlived relationships occurred then I met the man who I would marry, have James by, fall out of love with and subsequently divorce.

Move on...to meeting Corin, who I genuinely believe with all my heart, is meant for me. He's my second chance, who I love with every last bit of me and who makes me happy in a way that genuinely, I had never felt before I met him.

In 18 years I have changed from a girl, with little self confidence and little self esteem, to a 36 year old woman who, although never completely happy with myself in her skin, has the confidence to stand up for herself, manage and lead people, make decisions both personally and professionally without questionning herself too much, who appreciates her family and friends more than they probably know, who wakes up (sometimes slowly and reluctantly) every day knowing that she has a good life made all the better by having people in it to love, who love her too, without "if's, but's and maybe's" and with no strings attached.

The person in the photograph that I am holding was NOT happy at having her photo taken - I think my discomfort probably shows in the image...or maybe thats just my memory projecting that into my view of the image. The person holding the photo is far more comfortable - because if I wasn't, I wouldn't have posted the image.

So here I am, flaws and all, but knowing that 18 years of life has given me so much, including wrinkles, that I wouldn't have changed anything, even the crappy bits. I've made mistakes, have caused hurt, have been hurt - I've lived a part of my life, and will continue to do so, but hopefully with a wiser head and a nod to the mistakes, and successes of my life so far.

Here's hoping the next 18 years are as interesting.

(Wonder if we will still be blipping then?!?!?)