Release the wiggle
I used to be firmly in the camp that said, with absolute certainty, that new year’s resolutions are destined to fail, and rather snootily, destined to be made by people with zero will-power. But I write to you with my sincerest apologies. For it seems I might have been both wrong and a bit miserable.
Over the last few years, I’ve made some relatively big changes. All within the general theme of taking better care of myself. For me, most of 2020 was an absolute write off. While many people used the lockdowns to try to form new relationships with their bodies by exercising, learning new skills, and maximising all the time spent at home, I simply lost my mind.
In truth, I’d probably been losing my mind – descending into quite a nasty period of depression – for a few years. Sorry, hang in there, this isn’t all doom and gloom. But as we emerged into the brave new world of restaurants with tables 2 meters apart and washing our hands (did we wash our hands prior to 2020?), I decided it was about time I lightened up. And the first step in finding a better outlook on life? Getting some fucking exercise!
For me, it was all about walking. By the end of 2020, once I’d gotten over the fear of actually leaving the flat, and we were allowed to travel freely again, I worked my way up from a quick walk around the block, to regular 12, even 15-mile walks. But good things can’t last forever… mostly because the government’s furlough scheme was coming to an end and I needed to find a new job. And I couldn’t face the prospect of going back to a job with the very unsociable hours that had contributed to my unhappiness. So, by April 2021, when I eventually found my dream job (working from home), my routine was strong. Wake up early, start work around 7am, and finish at 3pm. Go for a walk, grab a coffee, enjoy the fresh air before it gets dark.
When January 2022 came around, I knew I was ready for more. I’d been dabbling with the gym for a few months at this point, so while it wasn’t necessarily brand new to me, I hadn’t actually made it a real part of my daily routine. I made the daring decision (drunk on all those exercise endorphins) to commit to going to the gym at least 3-times a week. I prepared myself to hate it, but to turn up anyway.
Well, I didn’t hate it. And surprise, surprise, getting 45 minutes to an hour of regular exercise every day does wonders for your mood. Who’d have thought that everybody was right about this? My own Mother was so smug, I couldn’t look at her.
For the last 2 years, exercise has become such an essential part of my daily life. It’s been the key to changing my entire outlook on everything. There is a remarkably simple truth to seeing how I feel about something after I’ve gotten some exercise. Nothing seems quite as daunting, or quite as impossible, once you’ve sweat a bit on the elliptical. Setting that goal for myself at the beginning of 2022, to go and do something that brings so much joy (I am addicted to the feel-good chemicals buzzing uncontrollably in my brain), has brought pleasure back into every aspect of my life. So, if you’re thinking about setting a new year’s resolution (don’t worry, it’s not too late), or if you’ve already set one, let me be the first to wish you luck on your journey. And congratulate you for making the fabulous decision to take care of yourself.
Skincare and skinCARE
Listen, I bang on about the virtues of SPF to anyone who will listen. And it all harks back to my first time using The Body Shop’s Seaweed Cleanser and Seaweed Daily Moisturiser with SPF in uni. That feeling of every day luxury, in taking care of yourself, and basking in that shiny post-cream glow (steady on!) – it makes me so happy to be alive!
As a child, I was afflicted with the most heinous dry skin. So riddled with eczema was I, that I was, on more than one occasion, sent home from school due to the pain caused by my cracked and bleeding skin. Luckily for me, steroid creams got it under control, and by some greater miracle, I seemed to grow out of it. Or so I thought, until last week.
As a lifelong lover of the Winter months, I have something really quite embarrassing to admit. I now hate the cold, and I’m so sorry for getting this all so wrong. Summer is actually quite lovely. The miserable short days of winter are a disgrace. Over the course of about 3 weeks, a small patch of dry skin near my eye, led to patches of dry skin all over my face, and eventually my eyes being so swollen it looked like I was in the throes of an allergic reaction.
A quick video call with my GP and there I was, face-to-face with the old frenemy I hadn’t heard from in nearly 20 years. Eczema. At least that’s what the lovely doctor on the other end of the facetime call suspected. As it was on my face, he recommended I avoid cleansing for a week, and moisturise 3 times a day, applying a very mild (available over the counter) topical steroid. He also added I should take an antihistamine to help with the itching.
3 days later, not a trace of the dry, scaly, tell-tale signs of eczema were left. Praise be. But this also meant not being able to use my prescription retinoid (prescription for pure vanity, I might add). But all of my obsessive reading, watching, listening, and shopping had meant I was very well-stocked for a situation involving skin sensitivity. Real thanks to Aveeno for making some of the best, most gentle products on earth. AND for FINALLY releasing a daily moisturiser with SPF! AND IT’S BLOODY TINTED!
I’m the tacky one?
I want to leave you with a cautionary tale.
I hyper-fixate on many things: skincare, food, books, coffee shops, public transport. Having interests and hobbies is fantastic for a person’s overall sense of wellbeing, connectedness to community, and creativity. But what I’ve never had even the slightest interest in, is home décor.
I’ve always liked to think of myself as an enjoyer of the finer things in life. Scented candles, framed photographs, pretty mugs, you get the picture. A trip to Homesense lights a fire in me that is so frightening, it rivals the city of London on the 2nd of September 1666. But what I’d never developed was an aesthetic more complex than a colour palette of mustard and teal. If it’s mustard or teal, it’s fine by me. Stick it in the basket and I’ll find room for it once I get home.
What you can’t do when you’ve just bought your first home and need to furnish it, is just stick it in the basket and find room for it when you’re home. No matter how hard I tried. Rob, my parents, friends, all seemed united in informing me the one piece of information I’d always missed: that I am completely, and utterly, tasteless.
Tim Wynne 