YOU’RE NEVER TOO OLD

I’ve never grown up. I have never put away childish things. I am deeply immature. But these are things I now celebrate. They allow me to play. They allow me to be creative. 

And I have never needed that silliness more than I do now.

I have aged at least a decade since You Know What* confined my life to a shadow of its former self.

The irony was that this was the year when I’d promised myself that I’d get back out there after several years forsaking a social life in order to do my Creative Writing MA and work to support that —writing and teaching my fitness classes and 'beasting' my personal training clients who had day jobs.

I’m no spring chicken. I also have chronic asthma, so, even though I’m much fitter than many my age, I’ve been told by my GP to be very cautious and advised by the government to shield. So, I rarely leave the flat. When I go for a walk, the number of people I see on London streets ignoring the rules freaks me out and makes my chest tighten with fear, so it’s not exactly relaxing.

       I’m not a patient person. But I am trying to focus on the present and make the best of it and wait for a better future.

I’m hunkering down and working from home – teaching fitness classes and my one-to-one sessions via Zoom and other online miracles. And writing as best I can when anxiety makes it impossible for me to sleep or concentrate.

       But I’ve waited a long to be a writer. Sure, I was a journalist for many years, but you know what I mean. And, as my husband is always telling me, I have to believe that it won’t be snatched from my grasp at the last minute due to the inconvenience of death.

       ‘Have some bloody faith,’ is how he puts it.

This is my Third Act. Claiming the fact that I am a writer has taken a lifetime to achieve. I still feel weird saying that—

I AM A WRITER.

There. It gets easier the more I say it.

I’m not middle aged. (How many 124-year-old women do we know?) I was the oldest person on my MA course and am one of the oldest debut writers I know.

But it’s not too late for me. It’s never too late. It’s not too late for you. 

Current circumstances* may see things change in ways we can’t imagine, but we are an adaptive species, and WE SHALL OVERCOME. THIS TOO SHALL PASS. 

So, whatever else is going on, you can start a writing career. START NOW! WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH THE TOUGH GET GOING. And, yes, I am shouting.

*COVID – Constantly Onerous Vile Infection Disaster