Are You Happy?

Something that caught me off guard the other week was when my partner hit me with the question “have you noticed that you’ve been really negative lately?” One, I didn’t expect him to be quite so blunt but then again, who else would have the balls to tell me that I’ve been acting like a miserable cow. Two, it made me come to the realization that I had indeed been feeling irritable, quick tempered, aggressive with a side of crippling anxiety.


Kate Spade, Miss Guided

Like most individuals in my situation, the knee jerk reaction is to blame everyone around you, from your local courier to the cute toddler blowing raspberries at you whilst you’re trying to respond to an important email. I’ve often found myself taking things completely unrelated to me personally and even erecting a great defensive barrier (figuratively speaking) when constructive criticism is delivered with the purest of intentions. For those of you who don’t know my story then let me paint you a picture. I’m a 26 year old girl who up until three months ago had a steady 9 to 5 in a respectable bank that paid my never-ending bills, is currently familiarizing herself with the ins and outs of the divorce procedures of the beautiful Commonwealth of Australia and hold study/personal debts that could feed and shelter a small town in Africa for a year.


It wasn’t until I picked up the recent issue of Collective Hub in the quaint little town of Toowoomba and read Lisa Messenger’s editor’s note that I decided to write this post. Just like she had recently been confronted with a moment of forced reflection – I had also been struck with the same. It then dawned on me as I continued to read her words that if someone had asked me the very simple question of “are you happy?” that I wouldn’t be able to give an answer. Well not immediately. Why is that? Up until now, I am still trying to define what it is that truly makes me happy. More to the point, what I derived satisfaction from.

Style Code Live, WhippetIt’s such a simple and innocent question but how often is it asked and how often do people know exactly what makes them happy. I’m determined to prove that my emotional intelligence far outweighs that of my partner’s male whippet – Billy. He knows exactly what makes him happy; seeing his owner walk through that front door each day as though they had been separated for centuries, watching you walk to the fridge and reach for that dog roll, taking them for the same walk around the block for the fiftieth time – amongst a multitude of other facile undertakings that give him so much undeniable happiness.

My goal for the next three months is to take myself on the journey to defining what makes me happy and fulfilled as well as weeding out the negativity and issues that need to be addressed. Don’t worry you won’t be reading some cheesy keep your chin up, sh*t happens, f*ck the haters or believe in yourself spiels that make your ears bleed but rather an honest account of my journey through this indeterminate part of my life. It won’t be a series of posts where I walk you through my new materialistic possessions that I have purchased in an effort to mask my actual issues and problems. We all know these bandage solutions are as effective as Donald Trump’s argument that women like to be groped in the crotch.

Triangl Bikini, Hair Flip    Free People Playsuit

I’ve managed to identify the key stress factors and one being my recent decision to alter my course of climbing the corporate ladder to working for myself and building myself in an industry that has become so exceedingly saturated over the last four years. My next post will explore how and why I came to the decision of leaving my job and how that has contributed to my unpredictable mood swings.

If you have specific topics that you would like me to share my experiences on then feel free to leave your questions in the comments below and I will address each in my future posts where appropriate. If you’re shy then send me an email and I will anonymously reference your question in my posts!

I’ll break my rule for using clichés and sign off with this – when life gives you lemons, make yourself some f*cking lemonade and then share it with everyone.

Ok so I didn’t have a picture with lemonade but you get the gist. xoxo