Airports; there is just something about them that makes me smile. All the people, all the busyness, all the pretty bags, I just love it.

Maybe because at airports it seems as though the whole world is running late, somewhat like my world or maybe because it’s like one big giant fishbowl, where I can enjoy my love of people watching at a whole new level. Maybe it’s because airports are always so full of adventures, with thousands of people all disappearing. All going in different directions, living out their part of lifes big plan.

I guess I just love the mystery of it all. The way that even staring out at the distance for just a few seconds can leave you with a million unanswered questions.

Where are they going, who are they going with, what are they going for? Will someone be there waiting for them as they arrive at the other end, or will they be travelling completely alone?

I love guessing which pile of luggage belongs to which person and I love that somehow, someone always surprises me. I love that there is always that handful of people who arrive so beautifully dressed, clearly out to impress and then there are the others who are so casual and so comfortable in their own skin that they just don’t care, they don’t need to impress.

I love the exciting ‘Hellos’ and I love the tearfelt ‘Goodbyes’. Mind you, had you asked me twelve months ago how I felt about ‘airport goodbyes’ I can guarantee you that my opinion of the heartfelt goodbyes would be a little different to now. The ‘Hellos however’, they will always, always be a favourite of mine.

I love that at an airport no one persons story is the same. Some travel for just one single night, while others travel for an entire week. Some travel for months, while others don’t plan on coming back at all. Some travel to visit loved ones, while others travel to escape loved ones and just by looking you will never, ever know.

I love that somehow, standing there in the middle of an airport amongst the constant flurry of people, your story will always be safe.

 A few months ago I decided that it was time for a change, it was time that I did something for myself. It was time to break the cycle and do something that makes me happy.

Everyday I would wake up, turn on my laptop and stare hopelessly at a pair of shoes that I would give anything to be able to call mine. A pair of shoes that symbolised a stage in my life that I desperately wanted to reach. A pair of shoes that more than anything, made me hate the fact that I still couldn’t run. Then eventually, once I could no longer handle the pain of wanting something so far out of my reach, I would turn off the laptop and walk away feeling a million times worse about my recovery than I had before.

Something had to change.

Eventually I decided to let go of the pressure that I had been putting on myself to be as fit as I had been and I finally convinced myself to let go of the expectations I had to be running again. I realised that it was okay to be exactly where I was and that it was okay that I wasn’t as fit as I had been, because my body had been through a lot. I realised that maybe I wouldn’t be running next week or even next month and that I needed to accept that, because it was okay to walk instead.

I realised that it was okay to take it one day at a time and that it was okay to take baby steps. I realised that when my body was strong enough and healthy enough for me to start running again that it would tell me and I realised that there was no point in blaming myself for something that was so far out of my control.

I realised that not having a pair of shoes, just because I wasn’t physically strong enough to run yet, was pointless. It wasn’t making me happy and it was in no way fair on myself. There was no reason that for right now, I couldn’t walk instead of run. I could walk day after day, until finally my body became strong enough to run. That was something that would make me happy; that’s something that would make me smile. So that’s exactly what I did.

I searched for hours and hours on end just to find the perfect pair and when I finally did, I ordered them without even the slightest hesitation. Then today, after months of waiting and countless mornings checking the mail, they finally arrived. So today I walked.

Now I realise that to the rest of the world and to those people passing by, I may have appeared to have ’just been walking’ but for me it was something so much more than that. For me, it was the first time in a long time that the thought of running never even crossed my mind. Today I walked and I could not have been happier

February 14th; you either love it or you hate it.

Like most things, when it comes to a female perspective, a girls view on Valentines Day is one that can change almost as often as her shoes.

Personally, I have been on both sides of the fence. I’ve been the girl who sits and stares at the happy couple holding hands, wishing more than anything that I could be like her. Wishing that I could find a boy who smiles the way that he smiles at her and whose hand fits perfectly in mine. I’ve been the girl who dreams of being someones princess; the girl who would give anything to be spoilt, even just a little. I’ve been the girl who prays that maybe today he’ll notice, maybe today things will be different. I’ve been the girl who stood in a room full of people, smiling, but who still felt completely alone. I’ve been the girl who has felt like she is the only girl in the world without a boy to love her, for exactly who she is.

Deep down though, as cliche as it sounds, all any girl really wants is to find love. Real love, not the fairytale kind. The kind of Prince Charming who was made just for her.

All any girl really wants is for a boy to come along and sweep her off her feet. For him to treat her like a princess. For him to come along, completely out of the blue and show her why it never worked with anyone else.

All any girl really wants is to be just like the rest of the world; at least for one day. She wants to have flowers sent to her door and a giant teddy to cuddle. She wants to feel like she is the luckiest girl in the world and that just in that one moment, she was the most important thing in his life. All any girl really wants is just to feel loved, even if it is just on February 14th.

As hard as it is though to constantly be hoping, wishing, praying that you’ll find him, don’t let that discourage you. Don’t ever lose hope, because eventually, after all of that pain and all of that heartache, just when you think you couldn’t possibly cry anymore tears, you will find him andwhen you do, I can promise you that what they say really is true. I promise you that it truly will be worth the wait.

Everything happens for a reason and I believe that completely.

So next time you find yourself sitting there, heartbroken, that on one specific day he didn’t send you a bunch of flowers. Instead of overthinking every little detail and crying to yourself over something that is out of your hands, stop doubting your worth and chuckle a little, because the truth is, when you find him he won’t need just one day to spoil you. He’ll have 365 days and every single one of them will be magical.

Who knows, maybe he won’t get you red roses, maybe he knows that peach is your favourite and maybe you won’t get a teddy bear, because he knows that really you’d much prefer a singing and dancing penguin. Maybe this time you won’t just get one single flower, maybe he’ll be the first boy to give you a whole dozen and maybe you won’t get a card saying ‘I love you’, but instead he’ll go out and buy you the entire series of your favourite Television show instead.

So don’t fall like the rest of the crowd, stand tall. Don’t settle for someone who will just smile and give you chocolates, just because he feels that it’s what he is meant to do. Wait for that boy who smiles with his eyes, not just his mouth. Wait for the boy whose whole face lights up when he looks at you and who spoils you in a way that you never could have imagined. Wait for the boy who knows you better than you know yourself; because he’s the one that will make it all worthwhile.

Wait for the boy who makes your whole life ‘Valentines Day’, just because he can.

Unlike the rest of the world, I had never laid eyes on the beauty that is Byron Bay. That is, until today and my goodness have I been missing out.

Like always, roadtrips with my boys tend to lead to slight detours, a lot of male bonding and almost always a whole lot of trouble. This time though, they were actually relatively behaved and this time I was over the moon with where we ended up.

Even at first glance Byron Bay was like a little slice of heaven. Imagine ‘Hippy meets Classy’ in the most beautiful place on earth. Which, considering deep down I’ve always, always wanted to be a Hippy girl, the ‘love at first sight’ feeling kind of explains itself. Well with the exception of drugs, alcohol and the whole ‘let’s not wear shoes idea’. Unless you are completely broke then you should always wear shoes, always – no exceptions.

All shoe issues aside though, standing there overlooking that brand new town or new to me at least, I was the happiest girl in the world. That smile wasn’t going anywhere.

Everywhere I looked there were countless little hippy Chico babies and as I’m sure you already know, second to being a hippy, I would give anything to be a Chico baby or well, to be honest, I’d be happy being any kind of brown really. It’s okay though, because once I move to this place called Heaven then I’ll be sure to blend in with the rest of them. Eventually.

Maybe not so much with the girls riding skateboards like they just stepped out of a Tony Hawk commercial, because I really don’t think my coordination skills couldn’t handle that kind of stress. The bike riders though, those I can definately work with. Not a mountain bike though, it would have to be one of those cute little vintage push bikes, the ones with the giant basket on top. Now those I could get use too.

I mean who doesn’t want to ride down to the beach on a bike with a basket? If that isn’t on your to-do list, then I’m not sure what is, because I know it surely made mine:

First investment: push bike with basket.

Second investment: do everything possible to become a Chico baby.

Third investment: find a Cafe that sells salad. Real salad, not the fancy kind.

Fourth investment: open own salad Cafe if investment three fails.

Now that third investment, the Cafe with fresh salad. One would assume that it would be the easiest of the bunch, right? Well you would be wrong.

After what seemed like an hour of walking up and down the street searching for any type of Cafe that could sell me plain meat and salad, I ended up buying 80g of chicken breast from a sandwich bar and a plate of salad from a Kebab shop and doing it myself. Which, coincidently, is what sparked my fourth investment idea, because apparently lettuce, carrot, tomato, cucumber and beetroot has now been replaced by beans and salsa as a salad. How ridiculous.

Me though, I won’t have a bar of it, which is where my ingenius plan kicks in.

After I invest in a beautiful vintage pushbike and become a little Chico baby, well then I’m going to open my own Cafe. Not the fancy kind, but the everyday kind. The kind where beans are called beans and salsa belongs on Nachos. The kind where salad does not have to be served on bread and you can have as much as you like. The kind where meat does not automatically come covered in a marinade, but where you have the option to choose for yourself, because surely I can’t be the only person in the world who just wants a plain salad for lunch.

I haven’t quite decided what I’m going to call my Cafe yet, but I’m sure you’ll know where to find me. I’ll be the brand new Chico baby who is still learning how to ride her fancy bike. I’ll be the girl with a smile from ear to ear, serving real salad and not the bean kind.

So you know how it’s always the cute little spotty, patchy dogs, that are picked over the plain coloured dogs. Well, do you think that same theory of acceptance could maybe, possibly apply to humans? 

You see, a recent trip to Lismore has left this girl I know looking like one of those spotty, patchy types and she’s starting to worry that the whole ‘spotty’ look won’t be as socially accepted with humans as it is with our furry little friends.

Which means, after weeks and weeks of careful, strategic, non-patchy sunbaking, just ten minutes in the heat of Lismore and all of her summer efforts have been ruined. Just like that, the perfectly even summer glow that she once had, had turned into that patchy Border Collie look. A peeling, patchy Border Collie look to be exact and there is not a thing that she could do about it. Well, not unless the patchy Border Collie look becomes the latest trend this season.

A little over three years ago I prepared myself for what I thought would be the most amazing day of my life; highschool graduation. I was finally leaving the place that I had dreamed of leaving for so, so many years. I was finally done. No more missing the bus, no more constantly getting in trouble for always being late, no more visits to the sick bay, no more note taking and no more school. I was finally free.

Today though, I proved myself wrong. Starting now, highschool graduation no longer takes the cake for being the greatest day of my life; because today was.  Today I had a smile at least ten times bigger than the smile I had that day. Today I didn’t just feel free, but I felt on top of the world.

Today I officially graduated from what seemed like pointless, never-ending visits to an endless list of doctors/specialists/naturopaths/homeopaths/massage therapists/crazy herbalists and a whole range of people who had no idea what they were talking about. Today, after two years, I was finally given the all clear from Chronic Fatigue and I could not be happier.

After two years of hopeless doctors, countless dead end roads and a complete loss of faith in the medical industry; by some miracle, we were finally led down the right road.

Just when we thought there was nowhere else to turn, we were pointed in yet another direction. Only this time it was towards a decent doctor, who did know what he was talking about and finally after everything, we ended up exactly where we needed to be.

After two years of heading full speed down a tunnel with no light in sight, eventually a glimmer of sunshine began to peer through the cracks and today, those little cracks of sunshine turned out to be the biggest, brightest rainbow that I have ever seen.

Today the storm disappeared and behind all of those dark, gloomy clouds shone a bright, beautiful rainbow and whether it takes me a million and one baby steps or so many that I start to lose count, nothing is going to stop me from chasing that rainbow.

Nothing is going to stop me from finding my very own pot of gold.

 Last night the strangest thing happened; I was showered, dressed, teeth brushed, head on the pillow, in bed and ready to sleep, before 10:00pm. Me, the queen of night owls, was in bed at an almost appropriate time. Not pretending to be in bed, not “I’ll be in bed soon I just have to brush my teeth”, not “Oh wait, I just have to say goodnight to everyone” but I was actually in my bedroom, ready to sleep, on time!

It was nothing short of a Miracle.

Now for those of you who don’t know me all that well, then you wouldn’t quite grasp the importance of this, but just to give you a slight insight, my usual nightly routine consists of quite a few things. Quite a lot of things actually. The main one being at least a million and one ”Goodnights” mainly to Mumma and of course a whole lot of messing around. Basically, when it comes down to it, I just don’t like to rush.

Like I said before, I’m a snail.

The thing is though, this whole ’snail’ trait of mine, it has a way of increasing in power as the sun goes down. In fact, you could say that come nightfall I’m a little bit like like a snail on energy drinks. It doesn’t matter how late it is or how tired I am, there is always an endless list of things that I find myseld needing to do, all at the same time and all before I go to bed.

You could ask me why and I would probably do my best to come up with a handful of plausable reasons for such a strange habit, but in all honesty, your guess is as good as mine. I like to think that I get it from my Great Grandma, Grandma with Charlie Bird, but the truth is I have no idea why it happens.

It’s almost as though the second that clock strikes 10:00pm, we start our day again, only we start it even crazier than usual. It’s as though in that last hour we have left before our head hits the pillow, we have to get anything and everything said and done, just incase we forget come morning. The thing is though we never forget and yet somehow, the next night it just happens all over again.

I take comfort in the fact that it’s not just me though. Much to boyfriends displeasure, it is definately a trait that I get from my Mumma. So really, if you plan on going to bed at a reasonable hour, then you probably shouldn’t have Mumma and I in the same household together. Well, not unless you want to play Tangrams at 10:37pm at night, which judging by Boyfriend’s facial expressions on this particular night, he did not want to play nor was he at all impressed by the idea. Mumma and I though, we thought it was ingenius!

It’s not always Tangrams though, really it can be anything. When it comes to night time activities, I’m a little bit like a ‘Kid in a Candy Store’ as they say. Easily distracted and just happy to be there, almost to the extreme.

Come nightfall, you can just about get me to do anything; apart from go to bed. Which, considering I’m like Sleeping Beauty when it comes time to wake up of a morning, I guess the Tangram idea isn’t really all that ingenius after all.

Like most things though, I still haven’t learnt.

Every night I still find myself going to bed once I’m well and truly past the point of being tired and every night I still come up with new ways to keep me entertained instead of falling asleep. Every night I continue believing that I’m on target to go to bed at a reasonable hour and yet every night I fail.

Every night I finish my conversation with my Mumma and say goodnight, but every night no more than two seconds later, I find myself back in there again. This time with a new conversation and yet another goodnight. If you watch us for long enough, it’s actually quite a lot like groundhog day.

On repeat.

 Every night, just when I think I’m tired, my body tricks me into thinking I should stay up a little longer and yet every morning, that same body of mine hates me for listening to it.

Every night my snail shell sheds and in its place I develop wings.

This story though, it’s not your usual ’caterpillar turns into a butterfly’ type idea, but rather a snail transforms into an owl. A ‘night owl’ to be exact. An owl that has all the same traits as the snail did, but with the added bonus of no clear concept of time. Which if we’re being honest, is one of this particular snails finest traits, even without being an owl!

Lucky for me though, I have an amazing little Lambchop who accepts both the snail and the owl, exactly as they come. Even if they do both come to bed a milion hours after they said they would.

 A couple of years ago I knew this girl. She was quiet and shy and she worried too much about what the rest of the world thought of her. She was a girl who more often than not, struggled to step too far out of the box without second guessing herself. Until one day, something happened and all of that changed.

This girl, she developed Chronic Fatigue and her life was completely turned upside down. She was forced to step outside of the box and she had no choice but to live differently to the rest of the world. She developed numerous food sensitivities and she began to struggle with usual everyday activities that she had once taken for granted.

Against all odds though, this girl stood tall. She made the choice to turn something that could have so easily been such a big negative, into an even bigger positive and she hasn’t looked back since.

It didn’t happen overnight, but eventually she learnt to step out from underneath that rock that she had been living under for the past two years and she began to look at the world differently. She regained her confidence and she began to look life in the face again.

Bravely, fearlessly and hopefully, she finally re-entered the real world, but not the world that she was familiar with; a world that was completely different to the one she once knew.

She started trusting herself enough to take baby steps forward and in time, she no longer found herself falling backwards again. She started learning and she started asking questions. She started getting to know herself again and she started liking who that person was. She stopped caring so much about what the rest of the world thought of her and she started caring more about what she thought of herself.

The quiet, shy girl who would never speak out of turn, started to speak up for herself. The girl who never wanted to look out of place and who would sit quietly instead of catching peoples eye, showed up to a Chinese restaraunt with an entire hot chook, a fresh salad and a water bottle and instead of going home hungry because she couldn’t eat the food they were serving, she proudly made her own dinner for everyone to see.

The girl who would have once sat quietly in her little summer dress in minus degree weather just so people wouldn’t stare, took out her blanket from the car and walked around the restaraunt like a bug in a rug and instead of freezing her little bum off, she was as warm as toast as she smiled politely at the people who stared.

Before all of this, had you asked that girl who she was two years ago, she would have had absolutely no idea what to tell you.

Now though, I think she’s finally starting to get an idea.

If you asked her would she do it all over again, if she had a choice; whether you believe it or not, the answer would easily be a yes. Maybe not in a heartbeat, but to tell you the truth, she wouldn’t change a thing.

 Everything happens for a reason and all of those little things that happened leading up to this, has lead me to where I am today and where I am today, is exactly where I am meant to be. It is exciting and new and promising and I can honestly say without hesitiation, that I have absolutely no regrets.

Everything that has happened from the start of my life until now, has built me into the person that I am today. A girl who is nowhere near perfect and who has more flaws than she can count, but who is learning to love those flaws and imperfections as though they were sprinkles on a cupcake. A girl who is working towards changing the things that she can and who is learning to accept those things that she can’t. A girl who despite all odds, has stopped second guessing herself and who is trusting the person she is. A girl who has started to smile again.

A girl who is so much stronger than she ever knew she could be. A girl who is happier than she can ever remember and who has so much more to offer life than she ever thought possible. A girl who is finally starting to find her place in the world and who couldn’t be more content.