It's quite a big step moving home, it's a huge step moving home from hugely populated, crazy busy, everything going on London to small understated but homely Aberdeen after 5 years... It's an even bigger step to do it to go home to give birth to a whole new little person.
I was nervous about my move but had picked it absolutely for the best and knew that I was going to have to be able to shut off my emotions to leaving as much as I could what with battling enough pregnancy hormones already, I didn't need more reason to cry.
Aberdeen I had left, again, 5 years earlier to try my luck at making a go of it and getting ahead in my career and that I certainly did but not after a few big falls. I'd also previously left London to live in Manchester for a couple of years because I felt like it (moving with little over 2 weeks planning) and when I'd left to go to University to study my BA in Fashion Design for Industry in Galashiels as a teen.
As young as my early teens I was determined I was going to be independent and leave Aberdeen to make my life elsewhere. After growing up in the countryside which I loved, I still longed always to be moving somewhere busier, first the town, then the City but I decided to skip all of that and go further afield, though initially for Uni it took me to a small town..
Anyway, when I was leaving for London a lot of naysayers were on it, telling me how expensive and impersonal it was and ultimately trying to tell me I would fail before I'd even got there; including the ex boyfriend I was leaving behind. The problem with that is, the more people tell me I can't do something I'm pretty sure I can is, I will go more determined!
I'd set up, wrote and delivered a weight loss and nutrition 10 week course which went SO well that it gave me confidence to go, that and the cash flow.
Once I had got there, I was excited and nervous but OMG London! I had the best first few days (largely because I had already scored a new bf pretty much before I got there who was not only lovely but absolutely gorgeous.. It was short lived but the best start!) I started in a gym and quickly realised not only how different London was but this was not going to be easy. Fast forward a couple months and I was ready to change gyms and had spent all the little money I had, was on my ass and had some olive oil and onion to my name along with my possessions. Fuck.
But there was no way I was admitting defeat and going home, not a chance, I'd figure it out, cry it out, battle on. I'd managed to land a loyal client who came with me across gyms and was training 2-3 times a week, it was a start. If you know me already in real life or through social media you will know I went from this point where I had hit waaaaay bottom to going on to representing one of the biggest gym fitness companies in the world and at the time I think the biggest in the UK, I'd picked up the money side of things nicely and managed to complete many a goal including writing articles and pieces for magazines and newspapers including InStyle, Runners World, Women's Fitness and more... More often than not the Daily Mail (soz)..
I'm not a quitter by nature, quite perennial in fact.. So my pregnancy journey, well, it's just another challenge at the beginning of something quite frankly well worth the hard parts..
So, I haven't even been through all I did in London and how my life panned out there (maybe I will if you want to know? It had a fair few stories, tinder fails and a trip to court for a case against a Stalker.. oh and an ex I found on Tinder who'd photoshopped his face onto someone else's body, but they are other stories haha) but it's easy to understand I was leaving what I had come to make my home.
The last 4 days, though having slipped into my 3rd trimester, I was still working hard, right until the end thus not giving me time to wallow or get upset about leaving. I'd done a small tour of my favourite places at the weekend to sort of get that out of my system and doing it alone to get some real bonding time done with the City. I managed to go for dinners with friends and sign off with clients who kindly brought me in little presents either for Little Bean or to try and help me with my sleep with pamper gifts before she were to arrive.
Come the last day as scheduling often does, it became a bit of a mess with a missed hospital appointment, I needed to get my Rhesus Negative Anti D jab which I baby brain put in the wrong day, my washing machine had broken AND I ran out of boxes. So instead of a chilled last day I was running around like a headless chicken. But I made it AND managed to feel pretty chilled as I went to the train station.
In that morning I had to go and get my clothes dried at the laundrette where I said my goodbyes to the lovely Helen who often did my laundry for me in those last few weeks (I made the most of the little luxuries before I stopped working and had some money but was time poor) and decided to get my last Old Street Starbucks decaf almond latte and pick up breakfast in my rush as my shipping was due to be picked up in an hour.
On my rush back, who did I bump into??? THE DAD!! (There are 8.78 million people in London just FYI). What the hell kind of luck is that?! He started making small talk and I politely answered back bits but for the first time I made MY rush away without letting him get a goodbye at me as I'd already left. I was already emotional at having to leave London, I would not cry in his face.. Like he holds me responsible for everything so childishly, I reserved the right that day childishly to hold him responsible for my departure from MY City.
I got through all the jiggles and niggles of the last day and everything got sent away and squared off on time and I was exhausted but accomplished. As I got on the train to Gatwick I know it wasn't to be long before the tears hit me and hit me they did. I sat and silently ugly cried about how I was leaving London and omg was I doing the right thing and all the other feels.. Trying to hide my face, but actually fuck it nah, cry anyway... And I was ok.
I was excited too. Then I got a message from daddy wishing me a safe trip. A first message, not a reply. That was a first since he found out I was pregnant pretty much. It numbed me.. But it also had no place in this day. It was pretend concern most likely. So I left it until after the flight.
I should have just left it completely.
Landing in Aberdeen, I had the same sense of coming home. I was relieved and quite happy and actually ready to start over here. I'd be getting a new place to live, get to reconnect with my sister and I would be welcoming Little Bean in just over 2 months time!!!!
I'd booked a cheaply crappy hotel to stay in for the first 3 days to just allow myself to rest, peacefully before starting and I didn't want to impose staying on my sister for so long.. I had no idea yet how long it would be before I would be in my flat.
Little did I know at the time that I wouldn't get into my flat a solid MONTH later, would live out of my suitcase, cramping my sisters style in her one bed flat and be worrying and anxious for much of that month!!
But here I was, oblivious, ready, waiting to start my new life at 30 as a Mamma Bear and I couldn't wait!!!
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