There just wasn’t a lot of fun anymore. A lot of busy-ness. A lot of doing this and that, holding everything together. A lot of toddler love, which holds my heart never endingly, but every so often I’d still feel the engulfing absence of former fun.
I was a single mum, growing a mini-me single-handedly.
I managed a home and ran a business. In fact, I ran three with sporadic income. A hopeful entrepreneur.
Responsibilities and aims here, there and everywhere but I also knew my blessings – opportunity, education, a wonderful son, health and loved-ones.
I still missed a little bit of grown-up fun though.
Dressing for a date fun.
Dancing all night fun.
Laughing so my grin stuck fun.
There wasn’t much of any of this.
Not only was I missing fun but I realised a fundamental part of me was missing.
I wasn’t much fun myself anymore – not much fun to be around or be with. I was serious now. Everything was important, committed, tough but that’s just how it had to be. What did I have to complain about? Suck it up. I made these choices.
There was a sense of self-harm about it, self-flagellation.
Deep down, I longer for fun and not only for its sake but also, very clearly, for my mental health.
Fun is important.
Fun manifests fun.
Fun brings joy, endorphins and stress relief.
Before, I had always considered myself a fun person and without it I was missing a lot of positive energy. Not good for me or my son, so, I decided to stop stopping grown-up fun and to start having some.
The aim was to document everything on Instagram as ‘100 Days of Fun’ but, then, Coronavirus happened and this wasn’t fun for anyone. No dancing for the world, shopping off, dates on hold, the economy tanking and people dying. It couldn’t have been bleaker. I felt helpless for others and fearful for and of everyone. What was happening to us?
I decided to stick to my fun 100 days. Stick to Instagram. Stick with doing something good consistently as I needed it now more than ever and maybe someone else would like it too.
I improvised and did collage instead of shopping, laughed on video chats with friends and danced alone in my flat. I went for walks with my beautiful boy in beautiful places and I took photos of dishes I cooked.
What was more important though for me than anything was the process of it all.
The process of thinking of something fun to do that I could post about. The process of being committed to showing up consistently. The process of initially feeling this new project was a chore and of pushing through to then find it joyful. Every part was therapeutic during a time when the world was in limbo.
I began to look forward to posting my next fun picture and did it one day after the other, again and again, until there were 100 of them.
On September 23rd, the day after the Autumn Equinox this year, I put my final day on Instagram. This 100th post showed a picture of my son staring adoringly at a tractor and its’ trailer. He loves tractors and the effort he put in inspecting every inch of it made me smile, so, I took a photo and shared it online.
Doing 100 days of fun has shown me some things. That setting myself a challenge and sticking to it feels good, pushing through the uncomfortable parts of change gets me to a place of ease and positivity and doing fun stuff brings fun back into life. I hope you enjoyed my 100 Days of Fun too.
Here’s looking forward to all dancing all night again soon! Wishing everyone a wonderful start to an autumn of more fun…