Sometimes finding yourself again means learning how to enjoy a life that looks completely different than the one you used to live.
I recently turned 30, and I think I expected this chapter of my life to feel a little different.
I thought I'd have more things figured out. I thought I'd feel settled into who I was, what I liked, and what made me happy. Instead, I find myself in a season where I'm having to relearn so many things about myself.
And one of the things I never expected to have to relearn was how to have fun.
Over the past little while, I've been dealing with some unexpected health struggles. I'm learning more about autoimmune diseases, navigating doctors' appointments, trying to understand my body, and slowly realizing that the way I've always lived might not be the way I can continue living.
And honestly? That's been harder than I expected.
When the things you love start to look different
For as long as I can remember, a lot of my social life has revolved around drinking.
Family gatherings, nights out with friends, holidays, birthdays, celebrations, weekends. So many of my favorite memories involve being surrounded by people I love, laughing, having a drink, and enjoying life.
It's just what we've always done.
And now, I'm facing the reality that drinking may not be something I can continue doing. Between my health and the possibility of triggering flares, I know I need to make different choices for myself.
But there's a part of me that feels sad about it.
Not necessarily because I'm giving up alcohol, but because I'm realizing how much of my idea of fun has been tied to it.
What do you do when the things that used to bring you joy suddenly aren't things you can do anymore?
How do you show up to family gatherings, dinners, or nights with friends when you're worried about how you'll feel afterward?
How do you explain that you're not necessarily choosing to miss out, but you're trying to take care of yourself?
And how do you find new things to enjoy when you don't even know what those things are yet?
I don't think people talk enough about that part.
Sometimes making healthier choices can feel incredibly lonely, especially when those choices mean stepping away from routines and traditions that have always made you feel connected to the people around you.
The fear of becoming someone who just stays home
I think one of the hardest things about all of this is the fear that my life is going to become smaller.
I don't want to be the person who always has to say no.
I don't want to constantly cancel plans because I'm worried about a flare-up. I don't want to miss out on memories with my family and friends. I don't want to spend every weekend at home because I'm afraid of what my body might do if I push myself too much.
But sometimes, the thought of figuring out what I can do feels so overwhelming that staying home seems easier.
And that's the part that scares me.
Because I know myself. I know how easy it would be to get comfortable in that little bubble. To stop making plans. To stop trying new things. To convince myself that it's easier not to go than to explain why I can't participate the way I used to.
I don't want my health struggles to take away the parts of me that love experiencing life.
I don't want to lose the adventurous, fun, social version of myself.
But maybe I'm learning that she doesn't have to disappear. Maybe she just needs to find new ways to exist.
Who am I outside of the things I've always done?
This is where I find myself getting stuck.
When someone asks what my hobbies are, I realize how difficult that question feels.
What do I enjoy doing just for myself?
What makes me excited to wake up on a Saturday?
What could I do with my friends that doesn't involve drinking?
What could I do on a day when I have energy but need to be mindful of my body?
What could I enjoy on a day when I don't have much energy at all?
I want hobbies that make me feel alive, but I also need hobbies that are realistic for the body I'm living in right now.
And that feels like a strange balance to figure out.
I don't want to constantly feel like I'm choosing between enjoying my life and taking care of my health.
I want to find things that bring me happiness without making me pay for them the next day.
I want to discover things I genuinely enjoy, not just things I'm doing because I feel like I should be doing something.
And I think there's something vulnerable about admitting that, at 30 years old, I don't really know where to start.
But maybe that's okay.
Maybe we don't have to have ourselves completely figured out at every age.
Maybe we get to keep discovering who we are.
Maybe hobbies are about more than just having something to do
I've been thinking about how often we associate hobbies with productivity.
Learning something new. Getting good at something. Creating something beautiful. Accomplishing a goal.
But maybe right now, I don't need a hobby that turns into a business or something I'm particularly good at.
Maybe I just need something that reminds me that I'm still a person outside of my responsibilities.
Outside of being a mom.
Outside of work.
Outside of doctor's appointments, medications, symptoms, and trying to figure out what is happening inside my body.
Maybe I need something that belongs entirely to me.
Something that makes me feel curious again.
Something that gives me a reason to look forward to a day that isn't just about getting through it.
Maybe it's learning to paint. Maybe it's photography in a different way. Maybe it's gardening, reading, journaling, baking, or finding little places to explore.
Maybe it's something I haven't even thought about yet.
And maybe it doesn't matter if I'm good at it.
Maybe the point is simply that I tried.
Finding new ways to enjoy life doesn't mean losing the old ones
I think I need to remind myself that this doesn't have to be an all-or-nothing situation.
I can still love spending time with my friends and family.
I can still enjoy celebrations, dinners, and gatherings.
I can still make memories.
They might just look a little different now.
Maybe I'll be the person with a fun drink in my hand that doesn't contain alcohol. Maybe I'll leave earlier than everyone else. Maybe some days I'll have to say no, and other days I'll surprise myself with what I can do.
And maybe I'll discover that there are things I enjoy even more than the things I used to do.
I don't know yet.
But I want to give myself the opportunity to find out.
I want to stop assuming that because something is different, it automatically means it's going to be less fun.
I want to stop letting the fear of feeling bad afterward keep me from exploring what might actually make me feel good.
And I want to remember that taking care of myself doesn't mean I have to stop living.
It just means I'm learning how to live differently.
To the woman who feels stuck in her own life
Maybe you're dealing with an autoimmune disease, too.
Maybe your body has suddenly put limitations on things you used to enjoy, and you're trying to figure out how to navigate a life that doesn't feel familiar anymore.
Maybe you're not dealing with health problems at all.
Maybe you're a mom who feels like she's lost herself somewhere between raising children and keeping up with everyday responsibilities.
Maybe you're going through a breakup, starting over in a new city, entering a new decade, or realizing that the life you've been living doesn't feel like the life you want anymore.
Maybe you just feel stuck.
And maybe you're wondering how to find yourself again.
I think sometimes we get so comfortable with the things we've always done that we forget there are so many other ways to experience life.
And sometimes, life forces us to discover them.
I don't think finding new hobbies is necessarily about finding something to fill the time.
I think it's about finding little pieces of yourself that you may have forgotten existed.
The curious part of you.
The creative part of you.
The adventurous part of you.
The part that wants to try something new, even if you're a little scared.
The part that still wants to make memories and feel excited about life.
I don't want to spend this next chapter of my life sitting at home, afraid of what I might miss or what my body might do.
I want to explore.
I want to try things.
I want to find new ways to connect with the people I love.
And I want to learn how to enjoy my life in a way that feels good for the person I am becoming.
Maybe I won't figure it all out at once.
Maybe some hobbies will stick, and others won't.
Maybe I'll have days where I feel inspired and days where I feel completely discouraged.
But I'm trying to remind myself that I don't have to know exactly who I'm becoming to start discovering her.
I just have to be willing to try.
Because turning 30 isn't the end of becoming someone new.
Maybe it's the beginning.
And maybe the woman I'm becoming deserves just as much excitement, adventure, and happiness as the woman I thought I'd be.
Here's to trying new things.
Here's to finding joy in unexpected places.
Here's to learning how to live a little differently.
And here's to remembering that even when life changes, there is still so much life left to live.
