As a child I could invariably be found in two places: 1) on the back of a horse galloping wildly through the local woods and 2) behind the wheel of a derelict car, pretending I was en route to a wilderness. I was happiest outdoors, hanging out with animals and friends, caking my knees in mud and adding knots to my hair.
I grew up on a smallholding in Hampshire, England, where my parents aimed to be self sufficient, rearing our own meat and growing an abundance of plants. With plenty of freedom to explore, I certainly made the most of it, somehow managing always to escape the mundane, avoiding boring chores and going on adventures instead. You’d find me building dens, climbing trees, cycling through moss-covered lanes and swimming in streams. I was fit, slim and active, always smiling, forever laughing, outwardly confident and bubbly … but inside I was developing a cripplingly low sense of self-worth. It’s only in recent years that I’ve learned exactly why and have gradually come to terms with the effect past traumas have had on my life. I won’t go into detail here but it relates to childhood and ongoing family dynamics, a variety of narcissistic personalities and a couple of life-threatening situations.
At 16 I found myself woefully ill-prepared for the outside world but eager to explore it.
I left home at the earliest opportunity but reluctantly went through college and university, both of which I loathed. The education system and its ridiculous anti-questioning approach suffocated my curious nature; I wanted to explore my own thoughts, not those of supposed experts who’d learned what to think during their own ‘education’. I found the work easy but the whole thing pointless. I didn’t want to be there, didn’t fit in and didn’t feel the need to bother faking it.
Gradually I withdrew and found myself unable to attend lectures at all. I had no idea that I was suffering from social anxiety, low self-worth and panic attacks. I just knew I was finding it increasingly difficult to attend classes. It was very confusing to feel my mind and body dragging me further away from the person I thought I was supposed to be.
Outside of university I was confident, enthusiastic and responsible; inside university I was depressed, lazy and bored and I had no idea why I felt so awkward in my own skin.
After university I threw myself into an unpredictable, dangerous and unconventional life for the next fifteen years.
I moved town a lot, drank a lot and ate a lot. I took lots of risks and could never settle; I was desperate for approval and never felt like I belonged. Fast forward a decade and a half and I was gaining weight, addicted to food and alcohol and suffering from severe depression whilst putting on a smile to the outside world.
Life stopped abruptly following two life-threatening experiences that took place within the space of a year: being held hostage by a Nigerian student during an armed robbery and being abandoned in a remote part of South Africa by a friend.
These two experiences pushed me over the edge and left me with severe PTSD, stress, agoraphobia and fear. I had next to no emotional support, sadly, and descended into the first of a handful of increasingly debilitating nervous breakdowns.
I lived in fight or flight mode for the next decade, suffering from crippling anxiety, panic attacks, addiction and low self-esteem. I was in mental anguish so I just sat and ate crap, drank wine and hid myself away from the world to numb myself.
As my psychological state declined so my weight increased.
Despite that I worked hard to pull myself together over the next decade or so. I eventually qualified as a life coach and performance coach, joined a photography club and met Dave. We moved to the south coast a couple of years later and launched a wedding photography business together.
I became a Master Photographer and began to build an excellent reputation for my wedding & portrait photography.
I took on a few pro bono life coaching clients and began to help people overcome their own fears.
We bought a place in the sun, splashed out on a sports car, lived in some impressive apartments and felt pretty smug at how well we were doing.
All that was to change, however, when we lost everything during the fallout of the 2008 recession.
We clung on as best we could but after a couple of years ran out of money and found ourselves living in a tent in my parents’ field for a few months. That was fine in itself but being at my childhood home wasn’t ideal and I noticed how my confidence spiralled down frighteningly fast.
I began to look for free alternatives to renting and soon discovered house sitting. Within a couple f days I’d found us a 6-month assignment that was to start the following week.
We moved in and welcomed having breathing space, no bills and few responsibilities. From that moment I put time into finding house sit after house sit and managed to keep a free roof above our heads for the next eight years, during which time we downsized our belongings by 95% and vowed never again to waste money on rent or things we didn’t need.
Things ticked along nicely but when Dave got diagnosed with bladder cancer in 2016 I lost all interest in our photography business. My stress levels rose to the point of my suffering a second mental breakdown and in the meantime Dave admitted to finding his job in I.T increasingly unfulfilling.
In addition, we’d gained a lot of weight between us and felt that we were growing apart emotionally. We were at a turning point and the only thing we were certain of is that we wanted to move into our future together. Beyond that, we didn’t much care so long as we were happy, healthy and free.
I encouraged Dave to jack in his job the next day and, after a month off, we launched an online web design business.
Minimal outgoings meant we could build a passive income whilst allowing the photography to fizzle out and that way we’d free up time to actually live life together.
We took a massive pay cut and lived well below the poverty line of one person but life was instantly more enjoyable as we had less ties and were now free to house sit anywhere in the country.
With freedom came time to focus on health and weight loss and with that came a growth in confidence. I’d established a YouTube channel that had grown to over 31,000 subscribers and with so much support behind me began to actively pursue my dreams.
I voyaged to the world’s most remote inhabited island, set foot on Antarctica, trekked to Everest Base Camp (failed twice!), published my books and created electronic music that went on to sell in over 60 countries.
I even flew to Iceland to attempt a solo 1000-miles walk (failed miserably, of course, but at least I had the guts to try!).
I felt like I was getting somewhere, though I still suffered from self-doubt most days.
When the plandemic hit and most house sit bookings were forced to cancel their hard-earned holidays overnight, we again found ourselves with nowhere to live.
We moved back into a tent at my parents’ for a few months and talked about the possibility of owning our own home. It was pretty clear: there was no way we could afford to rent a place, let alone buy one.
At what was exactly the right moment, Dave received a surprise inheritance from a distant relative and we used some of it to buy a minibus. Over the next few months we converted it into a cosy little home on wheels. We were used to living in all kinds of places during our decade of house sitting, so moving into a tiny home didn’t phase us at all. We’d already downsized, so packed the van with just the essentials and some nice-to-haves.
The second we moved in to our van we felt freer, calmer and happier.
We were immediately more connected to the outdoors and felt excited about the future again. We no longer had to rely on house sits and so had even less ties and responsibilities.
We picked up web design work from small businesses wherever we happened to be – a modest passive income that covered most of our basic needs.
Dave used some of his inheritance to qualify as a Class 1 HGV driver and we hit the road, going wherever he could find decent driving jobs.
Shortly after that we’d saved enough for me to take the plunge and qualify as a Class 1 HGV driver too.
As we’ve minimised our belongings, freed up our lifestyle and reduced our ties, so my mental state has improved. It’s given me time to draw a line and decide how best to approach the second half of my life.
I’ve recently spent the most distressing few years dealing with past (and ongoing) traumas head on but it’s been a necessary process and I’m just about out of the other side. The only thing left to tackle now is my addiction to self-sabotage and self-doubt.
I’ve stopped using alcohol as a crutch and, after decades of struggling, am finally getting somewhere with losing 150lbs of excess weight, instead of using it as an excuse to hold myself back.
I’ve listened to my body carefully over the past few years. It’s led me towards time-restricted eating, high-fat animal foods and dry fasting. I wouldn’t say I’m out of the sugar trap yet but my habits are changing and I no longer think about junk food and alcohol every minute of the day.
I feel more balanced, calm and in control and don’t seem to need the sugar fix so often. But when I fall off the wagon, I fall hard …
I’m learning how to handle stress better overall. My diet and lifestyle is helping me to feel more ‘normal’, both mentally and physically and I’m confident the weight will continue to come off slowly as my body and mind relax and I embrace fully who I am, flaws and all.
I’ve decided to share my progress online in the hope that my experience might be of help to others along the way. That’s really why I’ve founded The 40+ Collective: to create a place where we can all help and support each other as we navigate the challenges of mid-life and beyond.
