I am a late bloomer, which has meant that I went through a very awkward "pre-bloom" phase in my life. This was especially true during my mid-thirties when my friends and peers were flourishing into remarkable sunflowers and delicate orchids. They seemed to be thriving, while I felt stuck, like a hard bud that refused to open.
At that time, my existence was filled with aspirations but little accomplishment. I spent endless hours writing and rewriting a novel that I could never seem to finish. My attempts at dating were lackluster, going on uninspiring outings with perfectly nice men who never sparked any true excitement.
Each day, I felt more anxious as the number of baby shower and book party invitations piled up in my mailbox, reminding me of the life milestones I had not achieved.
Although I had a decent career writing self-help articles for magazines and websites, which provided me with enough income to cover my basic expenses like rent and groceries, I still felt unsatisfied.
My financial situation, which might have seemed adequate by many people's standards, did not allow me to engage in the activities I believed a woman in her thirties should enjoy, such as traveling or buying furniture beyond what was offered at IKEA. My life wasn’t terrible; it just felt mismatched for my age.
It was a stroke of luck to find myself focused on self-improvement topics, as I was too self-conscious to read a self-help book without the pretext of work. This situation gave me the perfect excuse to dive deep into the genre.
I interviewed various authors and experts who claimed to know how to achieve the life of my dreams. Eagerly, I engaged with their ideas, filling out their workbooks and experimenting with their plans.
Two pieces of advice came up time and again: I needed to build confidence and foster a positive mindset. These qualities were presented as essential for improving not only my career but also my love life.
The suggestion was that developing confidence and maintaining a positive outlook would lift me out of the monotonous routine that often led to lonely Saturday nights spent eating mac-and-cheese while sitting on my Gløstäd.
The concept of adopting a brighter perspective appealed to me. It felt logical that a more optimistic outlook could propel me forward. However, optimism was never my strong suit, primarily because I was a frequent consumer of news that often highlighted the darker sides of life.
Despite my struggle with positivity, I made an effort. I told myself it was for research! However, striving to be more hopeful and upbeat didn’t lead to increased happiness. Instead, it intensified my longing for what I lacked and amplified my impatience for the future to provide what I desired.
On the positive side, my exploration of self-help eventually introduced me to yoga. It was in this setting that I first encountered the teachings of a Buddhist nun .
Her books, such as The Wisdom of No Escape and When Things Fall Apart, offered practical guidance on how to live. However, her approach differed significantly from the other self-help literature I had been consuming at the time.