Lost in London.


Often in life, I find that things happen when we need them most – even if we don’t necessarily realise that we need them. Last week, I packed up my clothes, slipped my laptop into my bag, turned on my camera and boarded the train to London.

The big smoke has always fascinated me. It’s an intricate city where modern and cutting edge intertwines perfectly with the historical and the fascinating. The capital is huge; it’s almost a country within itself. There are millions of people walking the streets and a million more stories being written every day. Yes, London is a city where it’s very easy to feel insignificant and lost, but insignificantly lost is something I needed to be. 

I didn’t come to find myself, we all know it’d take more than four days in a different city to do that. I was here for meetings – important, gritty and definitely boring-in-the-adult-life tone. In my free time however, I have been on a journey that took me across a tube network, discovering myself in the sunsets of London. It all sounds rather poetic, it almost sounds like some fantasy created for the ending of a film – I get that. But last week, I found myself after looking for so long. 

Life at home has become stale. It’s not frustrating me. I enjoy my degree, my friends, my work and my home, but the routine had become repetitive. Spreading myself thin is something I’ve made no secret of doing – and I thought I was doing well. But often, I will go to work on a Monday night and when I finish at 8 in the morning, I will freshen up in the bathroom before hot footing it off to university for a day of lectures and filming before dragging myself back to work for another twelve hour shift. In between that, I have to find time to write for DCD, to reply to the many emails I have stacking up in my inbox and make sure I socialise – oh and eat. It’s become a rather unconventional routine that when I write out in front of me, seems quite startling. But I live it and I almost, in some really strange way, enjoy it. I can only enjoy it so much, though, before I become completely exhausted and simply exist. 

I realise now that for the last couple of months I have been existing. I have motioned myself through the weeks, crawling to the nearest rest stop. That rest stop happened to come when I boarded the 10:54 to London Euston last Sunday. 

I could feel myself slowly returning to who I am over the days I was there. I managed to find time to unwind and relax whilst still getting my meetings done. My inbox was no longer full but my energy was no longer drained. I took late night journeys on the Underground to eat frozen yogurt and capture beautiful footage for my weekly vlog (if you haven’t seen it yet, give it a watch, please!).

I came home on Wednesday afternoon and although I went straight from the train station to the tattoo studio – thus picking up my hectic life the second I stepped off the train – I felt like I had that spring in my step that makes me – me. I came home with a fresh approach on life, and the journey I must take this year. 

I think what I am trying to get at is that we are often victims of our own success. It is so easy for us to be swept up into the rat race of adulthood. As adult life begins to take holder and bills become a priority, it’s very easy for us to get caught up in the loop of working hard to keep those above us happy, to keep the companies paid to keep our life floating. But it is as equally important to remember that we also need time for us. Whether it’s reading a book, taking an hour to do yoga or hot footing it off on an adventure in a new city, we need to recharge our batteries and find out who we truly are. 

Whilst I have you here, I just wanted to say a huge thank you to each and every single one of you who voted for me in the UK Blog Awards. If you weren’t aware, I made it to the finals! Your favourite average blogger is in the finals of something – huh?! We have a long wait until the results in April, but making it this far would have been absolutely impossible without each and every one of you. From the bottom of my damaged heart – thank you. x 





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