Does your life still fit you?

The tenth of November was a sunny Autumnal day. Nothing remarkable. But to me, it marked the end of an era and a whole new start.

You see on that day, I went for a walk wearing a brand new pair of hiking boots. My old boots - the pair I’d bought just two weeks before I climbed Kilimanjaro back in 2017 - were left at home, retired from service. 

Those boots were big, heavy, leather mountaineering boots, unlike any others I’d ever owned. When I bought them, I was anxious about wearing them, convinced they’d give me blisters or that I'd find them too heavy. But I didn’t have a choice. I needed boots and thanks to the truly exceptional service from the boot shop, I made it to the top of Kilimanjaro without issue.

Those same boots got me solo along the length of the Northumberland coast path, the Norfolk coast path, the Esk River Valley, the West Highland Way, Tour de Mont Blanc, and miles and miles and miles of others trails.

They were so much more than footwear though. Those sturdy boots of mine helped me take the steps I needed into my new life; they were my loyal companion. Every time life got hard, I’d put them on, lace them up, head out and they carried me to a place of calm. Up and down steep hills, through moments of laughter, joy, wonder, grief, sadness, rage, and shouting at sheep. They’ve been with me every step of the way, in every weather imaginable. 

They became so comfortable, like an extension of my body. I’d stick them on my feet and it would feel like home. It was in those boots that I rediscovered myself. They gave me my joy and confidence back. Who knew that a simple pair of boots could have so much power? 

But then, as with anything, over time they wore out. A couple of weeks ago, while hiking in the rain, those wonderful boots that had never once leaked, became water logged because the leather was cracked. 

I knew it was time for another pair. It felt like I was cheating even thinking about it. 

I headed back to the same shop that I got the original pair from, being fitted by the same man who served me the first time. He didn’t even ask me if I wanted the same boots again. 

He simply measured me, took out the exact same pair of boots, only now with a snazzy green bit of leather at the back, and did exactly what he did before, waxing and steaming the boots so that they’d fit my wide feet. He also pooh-poohed my faithful Brigdale socks which I’d had for even longer than my boots. They were so threadbare they almost didn’t count as socks any more and he insisted I get some new ones.

And so, on the sunny Autumnal day, I took my new boots for a walk, feeling strangely heart-broken about leaving my old faithful boots behind. I genuinely cried as I walked, thinking about all the steps I had taken in them.

The new ones felt a bit weird, slightly uncomfortable, but not massively so. They clearly fit, but there weren’t yet soft. They didn’t mould to my feet like the old ones had. Yet. But I knew with time and wearing them in, that I’d get used to them. 

It occurred to me, as I crunched through Autumn leaves in those new boots, that there’s a metaphor there for life. 

Sometimes, even though you don’t want change, it is forced upon you. Or possibly you’ve simply outgrown your old life. It feels worn out and in need of something new. 

If I think about when I got divorced, I didn’t choose that. I was comfortable in my life even though there were signs of distress. Our love had sprung a leak, much the same way my boots did. 

But the decision was taken out of my hands and I was forced to accept a whole new future. Wearing this new life felt really uncomfortable for while. But I did it. I wore it in. And I got used to is. Gradually it became me. My new identity now feels more familiar than the old. 

So many people find themselves at a cross roads in life, either because it happens to them, or they simply look at their tired life and know it needs to change. But they don’t know what they want it to look like. 

Just the same way that you can’t keep walking in boots that no longer fit or work properly, you can’t keep living a life that no longer fits you. Change is hard. But staying the same and not truly living, is even harder. Sitting in a state of indecision is hardest of all.

Weirdly, as I walked in those new boots, I made a voice recording (which possibly makes me sound like a mad woman) and in it I said: ‘I just want to say thank you to my old boots for carrying me through all the hard times. You were awesome. To my new boots, I’m sure we’re going to have just as many incredible adventures. And maybe you’re the fresh start I need to go find those new adventures because I have been stuck on the hamster wheel of indecision. Let’s go make some memories.’

Well guess what? 

On the drive on the way home from that walk, I had a brainwave, a business idea that felt so aligned to me. By the end of the day I had created an entirely new thing, which I will be launching next week. So watch this space!

This is a step out of my comfort zone. But I believe in living by example. Sometimes you have to be brave and try a new thing, a new project, a new life. I feel that this initiative perfectly fits me, where I am and where I want to go in life. I can’t wait to unveil it.
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Until then, look at your life. Could it do with some updating? If yes, don’t be afraid to change. My new business venture will help you do exactly that! Check back on the Glamoraks website or on the app next week.