Long time, no see.

Hey there. Guess what, I am finally back from a few months of silence.

As you all know, in November last year, I moved to little old New Zealand and have been rather busy with settling into my new life. So, after that eerie period, I’m dusting away those cobwebs to write this piece.

It’s funny how you very quickly settle into a space you know so well. I grew up in New Zealand, in my small town aside the ocean, and to be reunited with it after 4 years came easier than expected. Before I left London, I always got the “it’ll hit you after a while, you’ll miss the hustle of London.” – well, I’m here to tell you, I don’t.

And honestly, I don’t miss it at all. I thought I would; miss the traffic, the busyness, the cafe ridden streets, the atmosphere, but I simply don’t. However, the one thing I do long for, is hangouts with my cosmopolitain friends; the work pals; I met some of the best people in the world in London; I just don’t long for the place itself.

This did come as a surprise to me. I expected myself to struggle with small town living at least for a little while, to regret ‘giving up’ (for better the word) London for a simpler way of life, but I’ve come to realise that New Zealand kinda suits me. I thrive on exercise, and fresh air, and devour outdoor spaces. I’ve caught up with old friends, explored new places, rediscovered my love for cooking and creativity, joined a band; the open space of New Zealand, has allowed me to fill it with more fulfilling activities. There’s something special about this country, and I cannot wait for my London-made friends to come and visit me, so I can show them too.


It definitely takes leaving a place, to find the appreciation.

It’s cheesy, and the same sentence has probably been said in a million different ways, but it’s true. I left thinking I was too big for the small life, that New Zealand was boring and not good enough for the life I thought I desired. In reality I just didn’t know how to live yet.

I went to London and it was there I learnt how to live. I discovered myself through trials, tribulations, tears and smiles. And that person, this person I became, ended up craving a bigger space to breathe and grow. London suffocated me. It’s definitely a big city, but it’s also hugely populated. I listened to my body, and it was telling me I needed to move on – it’s funny how perfectly, gloriously, accurate your gut instincts can be. Researchers are discovering that microbes in our gut can send messages and important brain chemicals to our brain, affecting how we think, feel, and remember. Well, my theory is that so do your lungs. Breathe the air you should breathe, and you exhale happiness.

I don’t quite know how to explain it, but I just know that New Zealand air is my kind of air. I encourage you to find yours.

Your Own Definition of the Wor(l)d

Why is that we constantly feel the need to quickly move forwards? The indirect desire to make progression with our lives? Lately there has been the presence of the feeling that I ought to start to figure out a career path – the journey I need to take to successfully tackle life by societies standards.

Coming up to my third year in London, I’ve noticed that the past month I’ve been feeling as if I were falling behind people my age. My Facebook timeline was increasingly being filled up with the diplomas of my high school peers, and I was sitting in my London flat feeling a headway sense of failure and that time was running out.

This is where shit goes Hollywood. I stood in the front of the mirror and said to myself,

“Paige, you are a 20 year old living in London. What’s the rush?”

I think as individuals, we can’t succumb to the pressure to progress too quickly. If we spend our youths, rushing to the finish line -that ultimately isn’t there – we miss out on every thing else. Imagine running a marathon along the most beautiful coastline in Spain, and having someone run along side you with a black sheet so as to block the view; you would be undoubtedly infuriated. So why is that we sometimes do this in our own daily lives?

After this extremely short, but intense conversation with myself, I came to the conclusion  I hadn’t finished enjoying not having to worry about careers or an ‘adult life’. “Figuring it out” and even the concept of settling down is overrated; there is nothing wrong with living out our youths as long as possible. I was reading back on some of my first posts. I do find this interesting, and it’s for this exact reason I religiously believe in my blog. Merely one year ago, I wanted to be seen older, or at least respected as an adult would. Now, a year later of growth I am trying to embrace my age more than grow past it. I still believe myself to be mature for a near 21 year old,  but I’ve found acceptance in my youth and I’m trying to allow myself to not be so strung up on being accepted into the adult world too quickly.

It’s good to have goals, but I truly believe in having goals of less than 6 months. As I enter my third year in London,  I aim to travel more and immerse myself in all definitions of creativity. But more importantly, enjoy my youth and trust that careers and everything else will happen in due course.

Don’t live too far into the future that your vision gets hazy; get past the first 1km, stop, take a breath and look out at whatever view you’re presented with, before you start the second leg. We don’t all need to finish the race at the same time to be winners.

The world is there to be explored, and your life is to be spent in the ways in which you define a good life. There are only so many tomorrows, don’t waste it in the darkness of conformity if you want to be in the sunshine.

Stay young x


Why do people write? And what makes a writer’s work ‘good’?

I’ve always had a passion to write. Since leaving New Zealand, and whilst I’ve been on the journey to my own self-acceptance and self-discovery, I’ve found inspiration to write in the oddest of times.

Writing, at least for me, is a way to get things out of mind. As much as I advertise the fact that I have a blog, a lot of what I write I don’t necessarily want judged or even read, hence a lot of ‘raw thought’ journals spread amongst my physical belongings.

This past week has been really hard for me. My mind has been crammed with thoughts and expressionless emotion;  not being able to write this down has truly been one of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with. When I am presented with something unfamiliar, or scary, I need a creative release of some kind – it’s usually music, but lately its been my blog. So for me to have these mental images and swirls, and not being able to put them to word, has been more than difficult to process. Being away from family in such a time, has made this even harder to get over.

The continuous failing attempts at writing throughout this time, has resulted in poems, but mostly confiding in the works of others. You can get a very similar result by reading someone else’s raw thoughts and writing pieces – especially when it is so close to what you’re going through yourself.

So this brings me back to why people write, and what justifies titling a piece of work ‘good’. People write, I’m sure, for the same reason I do. This world is a blank piece of paper. We have the beautiful covers being blankets of stars, above our heads, and the sand and stones, under our every step. It’s our job to fill the blank pages that are our lives. I think within every person, whether they write it down physically; in a screenplay or within the musical notes of song, are writers. We all have brains and minds that over think situations, we all experience new and exciting things we want to share perspectives on; we are authors to our own lives. To label a piece of this art good, is when people like me, right now, can’t produce something to explain our own thought. We go to someone else’s work, and it’s ‘good’ because we can relate to it. It pulls out the emotions, whether it be tears or laughter, and it can describe what we’re too afraid or unable to explain to ourselves.

So don’t be afraid to write. Write what comes naturally, and write what you believe. Even if you are your only audience, you’re putting something into the pages of this world. One day, someone will read it and will be thankful to be able to accept their own thoughts. Writing is powerful; single words are just as strong.