Leaving Thailand and heading home on my final day I could not hold back the tears. After 4 months travelling I felt like I was leaving behind my oldest, best friend whom I hadn’t seen for years. I had found that person whom I had been longing to see. She was my family, my blood, my kin, my heart and a part of my soul. She was the person whom knew me better than anyone, yet I hadn’t seen her in a very long time. She was me. I had found me. That plucky heart of a hippie, free spirited girl that I once was. She was still there. Underneath the cast iron mould of whom I become, trying to break free. I could not lose her again. Not again. It scared the life out of me that I could be saying good-bye to the girl I had started to become again.

As the plane settled at its cruising altitude, I knew it was up to me to keep her alive. I needed to shed the corporate my skin. I needed to leave behind the feelings of conforming and society expectations. I did not want to go back to the life I was living. I liked whom I had found. I loved travelling, finding places, meeting fantastic people, I felt free and invigorated. I hadn’t become this laid back free spirited gypsy while travelling. I always was. She was there, buried deep beneath the layers of conformity. Cultural conditioning and other peoples opinions shaping who we are. Bound by the conventions of society that I thought we had to live by. And my own expectations of how I thought life should plan out, it had all moulded me into who I was.

Do Any of us Have a Plan at 18?

When do we become the person we don't recognise any longer? How does it happen? It is not over night. Life, society, typecasting us into a path that we believe we should need to follow. I have no idea how I got here, to the point where I felt completely lost and without a purpose. I had no idea of why I had made the choices I had made.

At 18 years old I had a plan, and that was to become a PE teacher, I was awesome at Lacrosse and played national level. I had travelled  to America with England U16 squad and travelled the East Coast. I wanted to go to Loughborough University to study PE. And they were willing to accept me with reduced grades because of my sporting ability. The only thing that stood between me and Loughborough were my grades. Sadly I did not get the reduced grades and couldn't go to university. That was the first time in my life that I had felt lost. 

Joining the Royal Navy 

We lived in a small farming town in the West Country. We were 'pad' brats, kids of a serving soldier. And I knew I did not want to spend the rest of my life in this small town after leaving boarding school. The obvious thing for me to do was join the military. The Royal Navy was the best option and after leaving school I immediately applied. After sitting the entrance, within 4 months of applying I was sitting in. That winter I found myself at HMS Raleigh in Plymouth marching around the parade ground.

I was surprisingly great, and I loved every minute of my basic training. I went from strength to strength. Whether it was trekking across Dartmouth in the snow. Marching around the parade ground or the assault course in men’s uniform as a squad. Polishing our shoes until they shone like mirrors.  Cleaning the bathroom mirrors with newspaper and vinegar. Sewing endless badges to uniform and making our beds every morning. Ironing every single piece of clothing until the creases would cause them to chaff. Studying through the night and still getting up at 5.30am. Sitting naval and maritime history, and operational exams. I was smashing it, I had found what I was awesome at.

Why do we Try to Fit in?

At boarding school, I had never fitted in. I didn’t fit the stereo typical affluent preppy girl. The era of frilly collared blouses, pastel coloured lambs-wool sweaters and pearls. I loved black, black leather jackets, black make-up and the wrong kind of music. I was borderline expelled. I never conformed and I continued to be true to myself. Our head mistress didn’t like me and she did me no favours.  In her reference to the Royal Navy she had said, “Caroline Scott is the student least likely to succeed”. It came as a shock when I received the HMS Raleigh award for endeavour in Part 1 training. My Divisional Officer sat me down and told me the amazing news. I was being recognised for my outstanding progress. She told me they had had their concerns when I joined, that a military life would not suit me. Yet, from the moment I arrived at HMS Raleigh and we met, they knew that I was misunderstood at school. I spent an incredible 5 years in the Royal Navy. I parachuted with the Royal Marines. I worked at Whitehall and lived in Kensington. I served at NATO Headquarters during the Gulf War in 1991. I had a glittering career ahead of me, and at 18 years I was going places. I was breaking the mould for woman in a male dominated world.

Suddenly I'm a grown up 

But then something changed. I had boyfriend. We moved into togehter, we sold my car, we bought a house. We adopted a dog, I got pregnant and we got married. In that order. The next thing I know we had two daughters, I am a Naval housewife and living in Naval married quarters. I would go out for walks with the double buggy and the dog wondering how on earth I got here. What decisions had I made that lead me to this point in life at 26 years old.

It was a shock becoming pregnant. My beautiful girls are my love, my life, my greatest gift.  They are the love of my life. Everything I have done since the moment they came into this world was for them. The conscious decisions and the unconscious were to provide a stable platform. A place of love and ..... needed for them to grow into independent women with attitude. In doing that, I was began to get lost. I wanted them to have roots and know where they came from. To go to the same school, do their GCSEs and their A’levels, go to university and have a conventional life. I don’t know why I wanted that for them, I had never had it and neither did I want it for myself when I was younger. 

Fake it until you make it

At 32 years old, I separated from my husband, and life seemed to go into autopilot. I began studying for a degree. I was still harbouring the words of my headmistress. I had a chip on my shoulder and wanted to prove her wrong, that I could pass my A’levels and get a degree. I worked full-time, studied full-time and at the same time was raising my daughters by myself. I had a fantastic job, I was progressing the corporate ladder. I took the girls on fabulous holidays and I owned my own house. I was completely independent and no idea how I was making it.

The years seemed to pass and at the blink of an eye the girls both left home. I was alone with the cat, I had no idea what I wanted to do or my purpose in life. Once again, I had that same lost feeling that I had when I was 18 years old. Not knowing what I was going to do. Only this time, I am 30 years older and there are less options. It was time to pick up where I had left off all those years ago when I had left school. It was time for me to find my true self and workout what I wanted. To live the life less ordinary. To continue to be break the rules of society expectations. Not conforming to what I think other people expect of me.

Breaking the mould 

So there I was on the plane home. On my journey I had begun to see more and more cracks in the mould of whom I have become over the last 30 years. I was liking the person whom I was finding. Glimmers of that teenager were showing up. The folk music lover, the thrill-seeking, ain't no mountain high enough go-getter were starting to appear again. That girl that my oldest and closest friends remember. She was making a spectacular reappearance. 

Remembering the teenager that I was, I was always different. I made outfits from old curtains, skirts from our old sofa material. I would cut up sweatshirts and sew them back together to make my tops original. I would wear my dad’s 501 jeans with my leather flip flops from the Casbah, I even wore them in the winter. While everyone else was listening to Wham and Spandau Ballet, I was listening to The Clash and Lou Reed.

I see plaques with the quote; ‘do not waste your time finding yourself, spend time creating yourself’, I disagree. My journey was about returning to my true self again. The reappearance of that girl whom I once was had gotten buried somewhere along the way. Travelling helped me find her, but so did being alone. Some days I had to dig deep to reconnect with her. It was within those moments where I felt overwhelmed with life that the true spirit of who I am showed up again. 

Returning to Yourself

There were moments where emotions took a hold of me and all I could do was cry. When it felt like my soul came to the surface and screamed, 'I’m here, I wasn't lost I have always been here’.

Finding yourself is not really how it works. You aren’t a ten-dollar bill in last winter’s coat pocket.. You are also not lost. Your true self is right there, buried under cultural conditioning, other people’s opinions, and inaccurate conclusions you drew as a kid that become your beliefs about who you are ‘finding yourself’ is actually returning to yourself. An unlearning, an excavation, a remembering who you were before the world got it’s hand on you. A wonderfully accurate description by Emily McDowell.

The only thing stopping me now was my own fear. All I had to do was keep the momentum and resist the urge to look for a job.