This is your first post
I remember back when everyone had a blog. And then no one really blogged for a while (it wasn’t a thing). But all of a sudden everyone I know has their own blog (or multiple blogs) and is busy sharing their stories and what they’re up to.
In the age of the internet, everyone seems to think that they have something interesting to say. There’s no point keeping a diary because instead you update your status, tweet about it or re-post a motivational quote on Instagram.
Now I’m not saying that I have anything particularly outstanding to say, but most of the best blogs and articles that I’ve read aren’t about something outstanding or interesting. It’s about something that everyone can relate to.
Last week was Valentines day, and as a recently single woman (with many loved up friends), it’s a tough time of year for me. But this year I realised that Valentines day actually marks something else for me. Because 5 years ago, on Valentines Day, I flew into Perth (on a very hot February day) following my boyfriend across the country for uni. Don’t worry, this isn’t one of those stories where everyone lives happily ever after, then I wouldn’t have anything interesting to write about then. The relationship lasted 7 months (I cooked him dinner one night and he told me he didn’t love me anymore, but that’s another story) and my engineering degree lasted me 2 and a half years. But Perth has stuck around (and probably will for may more years to come).
We’ve had our ups and downs, Perth and I, but there hasn’t been a day that I’ve regretted taking a chance and moving across the country. In the past 5 years, we’ve been through 3 relationships, 2 half completed degrees, 6 jobs, 8 house moves, 2 cars, 12 trips home, 2 bouts of home-sickness, 4 visits from family, 1 dog, countless friends and innumerable happy and sad moments. And if you’d asked me what I thought my life would be like when I first moved to Perth, I wouldn’t have picked any of this. At times it’s been hard (and at times so hard that I wished I could just give up and curl up in a ball in the corner), but it’s true when they say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Because dropping out of engineering made me take a chance with something new; losing my best friend last year (he was an ass but that’s yet another story) made me rethink the people I kept in my life; and then the end of my last relationship made me rethink how I spend my life.
Part of the most recent changes have led me to be more involved in a community group of web developers in Perth. As a country girl I’m used to a small community and being involved with groups like this (my Mum is a member of or helps run at least 5–10 different groups at home and is well known throughout the area) and didn’t realise how much I missed having that around. At a time when I really needed them (both personally and professionally) I had a group of people I could turn, to that I could talk to and ask for help. I had things to do outside of work (other than going home to Netflix), I had people who understood what it is I do for my job (before then I had no friends who understood how amazing and frustrating working with code can be) and I even had people who helped me get back into working out (and I still go to the workout session every Wednesday morning and rock climbing after work on Fridays).
And so looking back on the girl who stepped off that plane 5 years ago, I still can hardly believe myself what I’ve done, how far I’ve come and how I have and am currently spending my life. But every single second of that time when it’s been hard, every second that I’ve wanted to give up or turn back or go home, has led me to where I am today, to who I am today and to the life that I have here in Perth. And without that life, I wouldn’t have the people I have in my life today (and let’s face it, most of you are pretty awesome).
With that note, I’m going to end my first attempt at writing a blog post and promise that if this ever happens again I’ll find something more interesting to write about.