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Change of Heart



My 20s

I like to make a big deal of milestone birthdays, don’t you? I remember exiting my twenties – I literally packed up and left behind years of awkwardness about who I was and stepped into a decade of freedom and fearlessness (more about this in another post). What I didn’t realise then was that my thirties was just the preview to the coming episodes of what was ahead.

My 30s

My 40th birthday was a big deal because it felt like the birthday that truly marked my place on the earth – I had made it up Mount Everest (my 30s) and now that I was 40 I could erect my flag. Of course, at this point I had no clue that my 40s would actually be the mountain and my 30s was just a light jog around said mountain, anyhoo ... I celebrated with a handful of loved ones in a private dining room at a Central London hotel. I wore a fabulous dress and my beautifully manicured locs were piled exquisitely on my head. The room where all my guests were seated around a large dining table was beautifully decorated . Everything was perfect - and I was grateful for all the effort made - yet I remember leaving that evening feeling empty.



My Forty and Fabulous Birthday

For my 50th birthday another celebration was held in my honour to welcome in my Jubilee Birthday. It was on a typical Spring afternoon in sunny California and a day that one of my friends said felt like it was my wedding day. In some ways I did feel like a bride. For a start, as soon as I entered the party a tiara was ceremoniously placed on my head, my dress was white and I was led into the garden where all my friends were waiting for me to make my entrance. My party was organised by four of my closest friends. They knew I wanted a soiree where guests would feel fabulous. They also knew I did not want a single nacho to be dipped and that bubbles should not stop flowing until the last guest had worn themselves out on the dance floor! I left this celebration bursting with the love poured into me. As I was reflecting on this it hit me - how I felt after my 40th had NOTHING to do with the friends that sat with me at that dinner table or the venue - it was me, more specifically, it was my heart. I had a defective heart - a heart affected by so much disappointment and misuse that it could not hold the love that was being poured into it and like a cracked jug, everything just seeped out. It didn’t matter how much was being poured in, it would inevitably leak out, leaving me feeling empty and disappointed.


I have been on an extensive heart journey these last four years and I have to tell you it’s been hard workand painful addressing wounds that disfigured my heart and distorted my perception of love. For years I carried the weight of disappointment (yet another blog post) and guilt that I just didn’t have any room for love. But now I can say that my heart is now capable of containing the love that is being poured into it and that’s definitely worth celebrating every day, don’t you think?

My 50th Birthday


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