I’ve just had my 38th birthday.
In the past, I used to write a life lesson for every single year.
Thirty-eight lessons at once – it sounded fun and clever, but really, it’s just watered down and gimmicky – trying to package wisdom up into neat little social media-sized bites which is BS.
Because life isn’t neat – far from it!
So this year, instead of forcing out 38 shiny “lessons,” I sat down and asked myself a different question:
What is the one, real key lesson that defined this year of my life?
And I came up with a few things, but if I had to condense it into a single line, it’s this:
The novelty will always wear off.
Now, before you roll your eyes and think I’m being Miss Negative Nelly, let me stop you there.
This isn’t me saying life loses its magic. This isn’t me saying “don’t bother” or “what’s the point.”
Far from it.
Will knowing this stop me from seeking out novelty?
Hell no! I love new experiences. I thrive on new people, new places, and new adventures. That curiosity and excitement will always be a huge part of who I am.
But sitting with that truth – that the novelty always, eventually, wears off – has been one of the most grounding lessons of my 38th year. It’s helped me reframe the way I look at transitions, the way I hold onto (or let go of) chapters of my life, and the way I forgive myself for being human.
Because here’s the reality: novelty fading is not a reflection of failure. It’s not something wrong with you, or with me, or with the choice we made.
It’s simply part of the cycle of life.
Lowering My Expectations Changed Everything
A few years back, I learned something else that ties into this life lesson.
When I lowered my expectations (of myself, of others, of life in general) something amazing happened.
My sense of calm, my happiness, and my overall fulfillment increased.
Sounds counterintuitive, right?
We’re taught to raise our standards. To “expect more,” to demand excellence from ourselves and others.
And don’t get me wrong, there’s a place for ambition and standards…
But expectations? They can be a trap.
Because life is messy. People are messy. OMG, We are sooooo messy!
And when you expect things (or people, or places) to stay magical forever, you set yourself up for disappointment.
Now, here’s the kicker:
I constantly forget this lesson – like, all the time – sometimes it takes me weeks, even months, to remember it again. And the only way I seem to find my way back to it is by giving myself the space to reflect.
That’s why I’m always banging on about reflection.
About creating more space than you think you need. Because our brains are so crowded these days with notifications, deadlines, distractions, and noise!
So unless you literally carve out time to stop, breathe, and think, the wisdom just gets buried.
This year, that space helped me realise: the magic had worn off in my own life – and I was really struggling with it.
The Move That Felt Like Magic
If you’ve been in my world for a while, you’ll know that moving to a little countryside village called Box on Valentine’s Day 2023 was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
That move felt like pure magic.
Mentally, physically, emotionally – it gave me exactly what I needed.
People told me over and over again how much the countryside suited me.
Even now, when I go back to London and catch up with old friends and acquaintances, they comment on how it suits me, how different I am, how “well” I look.
For a long time, I lapped those comments up, and I’d happily talk about how peaceful it was, how much calmer my life had become, how moving out of the chaos had saved me in so many ways.
It has. And I think my move inspired a lot of people to consider their own big lifestyle changes.
It became this symbol of “choosing differently” and “breaking away,” which is why I struggled when, inevitably, the novelty wore off.
When the Magic Disappears
There’s this one beautiful vista on the drive into Box. If you’ve ever been, you’ll know what I’m talking about. You come off the M4 through Chippenham, and as you drop into Box, there’s this view that just takes you.
For nearly two years, every single time I drove through it, my heart would burst with gratitude. My soul would light up. I felt this deep, visceral sense of coming home.
And then one day, I didn’t.
For the past six months or so, I’ve noticed that the magic has gone. I don’t get that rush of joy anymore.
The landscape hasn’t changed. But I have.
And I’ve felt bad about it.
Because how ungrateful does that sound?
How spoiled?
How indulgent?
To have something so beautiful, so nourishing, so soul-filling… and to not feel it anymore.
But that’s the truth I had to face.
The novelty had worn off.
And I have really struggled with it.
Why This Hurts So Much
It’s always hard to admit when the shine has faded.
You find a place, or a person, or a thing that feels so good – so right – that you can’t imagine ever wanting anything else.
You wonder how you wasted so much time; like, why did you waste so much time before and put up with anything less?
And then slowly, silently, it shifts…
The excitement dissolves…
The beauty normalises….
The “special” becomes just… normal.
And that’s when we usually turn inwards. We make it about ourselves.
What’s wrong with me? Why don’t I feel it anymore? Am I ungrateful?
But the truth is, this isn’t about us being flawed.
It’s about us being human.
It’s about life doing what life does: moving forward.
Everything has a cycle. Everything runs its course.
And when the novelty wears off, it isn’t a cue to punish ourselves or pick ourselves apart…
But it’s just feedback: just a gentle signal that it’s time to turn the page.
Woo-Woo or Workhorse?
Now, as I write this, I feel the need to justify myself a little.
Because I’m not a hugely “woo woo” person. Although I laugh as I write this, as I’m probably more woo than I admit!
I think the reason I resist the label is that I’m very results-driven.
I love to work hard. I thrive on pushing myself. I’m ambitious.
And sometimes people assume you have to be one or the other: either you’re a hard-graft, hustle-every-day type… or you’re barefoot in the woods hugging trees.
But here’s what I know to be true: it’s not one or the other.
We’re all multifaceted.
We’re complex.
We have feelings. Hormones (ladies, you feel me!) Sides of ourselves that often contradict each other.
And the real joy – the real growth – comes from embracing all of it.
Not rejecting the part of you that wants results.
Not rejecting the part of you that wants peace.
But holding space for both.
That’s what I’ve found in myself, and it’s what I’ve seen in every single client I’ve worked with over the years.
Closing One Chapter, Opening Another
So, as I wrap up this birthday month with my “not-so-new” revelation, here’s what’s next:
I’ve handed in my notice on my beautiful Grade II listed home in Box.
It’s the house that has been my sanctuary. My healing place. The safe space that carried me out of burnout and back into life.
But it’s time to let go, as hard as it is. The chapter has ended.
On the 26th of September, everything will go into storage, and I’ll be stepping into the unknown again.
Right now, the plan is:
– Temporarily relocating back to London
– Three work trips already booked (Dubai, Istanbul, and Italy between December and January)
– Then a European road trip for a month or two with Arthur & Bibi (the doggos!) from February.
I’ll still be back and forth for our Glow & Grow Tribe meetups and for Brunch & Bloom – but looks like I’ll be taking our brunch on tour now across the globe!
Side note: Hit me up if you’re in Dubai, Istanbul, Cape Town, Italy & Spain, as those locations are locked in for the next 6 months!
However, in my true life fashion, the moment I made the decision and created the space… something new appeared.
As soon as I handed my notice in, a perfect little two-bed cottage came up near Frome – at the perfect price, and it honestly feels like it was designed for us.
But as I’m writing this, I’ve had an email from the agent which doesn’t look promising… but I’ll still hold hold a smidgen of hope… a smidgen is all one needs to transform a recipe (a bit like Mary Poppins and her spoonful of sugar!)
And this property randomly coming up despite my hawk warching of rightmove for 2 years has reminded me that the universe will throw surprises.
It has a plan, it will help you out.
And for me it’s got a 4 weeks to throw many spanners, opportunities, curve balls – depending on what way you look at it – so we’ll see what the next month brings.
The Real Moral of the Story & Life Lesson
This is the beauty of life.
You rarely have to have it all figured it.
Most of the time you you actually can’t have it all figured out.
You just have to make a move.
Any move.
Just one foot in front of the other.
Even when you don’t know exactly where you’re going.
Because the universe (or life, or God, or whatever you believe in) has a funny way of stepping in when you do.
So here’s the moral of the story:
The novelty will wear off. It always does.
And that’s not a tragedy. It’s not a failure….
It’s a sign.
A sign to appreciate the chapter while it lasts.
A sign to let it go gracefully when it’s done.
A sign to trust that the next step – however uncertain – will reveal the path as you walk it.
But you only get to see it if you’re willing to move.
So take the life lesson from my 38th year:
Let the novelty wear off. Don’t fight it. Don’t punish yourself for it.
Instead, hold the gratitude, take the magic with you, and step boldly into the next chapter.
Because that’s where life really begins again.
If you liked this, then subscribe to my weekly.
