I’m 32. And I spend a lot of time thinking about the things I haven’t done yet. The goals. The plans. The “I should have sorted this by now” thoughts that pop up more than I’d like to admit. But every now and then, I stop and think… Actually, I’ve done quite a lot. I have four daughters. Four completely different, chaotic, funny, strong little humans that I somehow help keep alive every day. Which, honestly, feels like an achievement in itself. I have a husband. We’ve built a life together that isn’t perfect, isn’t always calm, but is very real and very ours. I have a house. On a mortgage, yes — but still. A home that we’ve created, filled with noise, mess, routines, and everything in between. I have a degree in midwifery. Which I don’t think I give myself enough credit for. Because that wasn’t easy. That took time, effort, stress, and pushing through moments where I probably doubted myself more than I should have. And I did it anyway. I have seven cats. Which some people might questio...
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