I made myself a promise this year. No more summers that blur into one another, where September arrives and I can’t quite remember what I did with June. This one is going to be different. I sat down with a coffee, opened a new notes page, and wrote down everything I genuinely want to do, feel, experience, and become before the leaves start turning. Thirty things for thirty-something me. Here it is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’ve been saying “maybe next year” for three years. This is next year. I’m picking a lineup I’m actually excited about, sorting the ticket, and committing. I’m going to wear something ridiculous, dance until my feet hurt, and not care even slightly what I look like doing it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With coffee. Somewhere beautiful. I live near enough to a good spot that there’s no excuse. I just need to set the alarm and actually get up when it goes off, which is the hard part.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A real one. Blanket on the grass, good food, good wine, good company, nowhere to be. Phones face down. Afternoon stretching into evening. I want to remember what unhurried feels like.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even just one night somewhere new. A city I haven’t explored, a coastal town, anywhere that isn’t my usual circuit. Just me, my own pace, and total freedom over every single decision.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A lake, the sea, a river \u2014 I don’t mind. Somewhere that isn’t a pool. Bonus points if it’s cold enough to make me gasp when I get in, because that kind of aliveness is hard to replicate anywhere else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Proper tablecloth, candles, a slightly ambitious menu, a playlist I’ve actually curated. I want to cook for people I love in my own home and feel like a fully functioning adult woman who has it together. Even if the sauce is a little stressful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There are always more of these happening than I realise, and I always find out about them after the fact. This summer I’m actually checking listings in advance and going, even if it’s something I only half know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not just matching with people and exchanging texts for three weeks until it fizzles out. Actual dates \u2014 sitting across from someone, being present, giving it a real chance. I want to approach dating this summer with less cynicism and more genuine curiosity. Even the awkward ones are good stories. I’m saying yes more, overthinking less, and seeing what happens when I actually show up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Within driving or train distance. Just pick a place, go, wander, eat somewhere local, come back. The easiest form of adventure and I never do it enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I already know the kind of invitation I mean. The slightly out-of-comfort-zone one, the group I don’t fully know, the event that sounds exciting and intimidating in equal measure. This summer I’m saying yes once. Just to see.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No planning, no group chat negotiations, no restaurant booked six weeks ahead. Just a text at 6pm saying “tonight?” and actually doing it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not swaying at a wedding. Actually dancing. At a club, at a festival, in my kitchen at midnight \u2014 I don’t mind where. I just want to remember what it feels like to move without self-consciousness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not a quick visit \u2014 a whole day, planned around what they love. Whatever that means: a theme park, a nature trail, a beach day, building something ridiculous in the garden. I want to be the aunt who actually shows up and makes memories with them, not the one who just appears at Christmas. Kids grow up embarrassingly fast and I refuse to miss more of it than I already have.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Camping, a garden, a balcony with a sleeping bag \u2014 I’m figuring out the logistics. But I want to fall asleep looking up at the sky at least one night this summer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Wander around slowly, buy whatever looks beautiful, come home and make an entire meal out of it with no recipe planned in advance. Just improvisation and whatever the season is offering. Summer produce deserves to be treated as the main character.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This is the big one. I’ve signed up, the date is in the calendar, and the training plan is already making me question my life choices at 6am. But I want this. Sub 1:50 \u2014 that’s the goal. Not just to finish, but to finish fast and strong and know that I pushed myself to something real. Every early morning run this summer is in service of this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not only easy reads \u2014 though those count too. I want a memoir that moves me, a non-fiction book on something I know nothing about, a novel everyone’s been talking about, a classic I’ve been avoiding, and one wild card recommended by someone whose taste I trust. My current shortlist includes Educated<\/em> by Tara Westover, Sapiens<\/em> by Yuval Noah Harari, and Untamed<\/em> by Glennon Doyle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Not a 5am productivity grind. Just 20 or 30 minutes before the day starts that belong entirely to me. Coffee, quiet, maybe a journal, maybe a walk. Something that means the day begins on my terms instead of immediately reacting to everything else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I don’t want another dish I’m “okay” at. I want one recipe I’m genuinely brilliant at \u2014 something that makes people ask for it by name. Whether it’s a slow-cooked ragu, a perfect tart, a homemade pasta from scratch, or a layered cake that actually looks like the photo. I’m going to make it over and over this summer until it’s mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I used to do this and I stopped for no good reason. I want to get back to writing things down \u2014 not everything, not every day, just when something is worth remembering or when something is too heavy to keep in my head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I bought the yarn. I watched the tutorials. I started and unravelled the same row approximately eleven times. This summer I’m actually finishing something. It doesn’t have to be perfect \u2014 it just has to be done. A bag, a top, a sun hat, anything. I want to hold a finished object I made with my own hands and feel that specific quiet pride that comes with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Two full days. No scrolling, no posting, no checking. I’ve thought about this for ages and I’m finally doing it. I suspect it will feel deeply uncomfortable and then deeply wonderful, in that order.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Not dramatically, not cruelly \u2014 just honestly. I want to pay attention this summer to who I feel like myself around, who I leave feeling lighter versus heavier, and invest accordingly. I’m done spending energy maintaining connections out of habit or guilt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Summer is the midpoint. I want to sit with the question of what I actually want the second half of the year to look like and write down one specific, honest answer. Not a vague intention. An actual goal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n No people, no schedule, no obligations. A whole day that belongs entirely to me. Eat whatever I want, go wherever feels right, do nothing if that’s what I need. I want to get reacquainted with my own company.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I want to pick a cuisine I rarely cook \u2014 Japanese, Moroccan, Lebanese, Georgian, whatever pulls me \u2014 and spend the summer actually learning it properly. Not one recipe. Several. Enough to understand the flavour logic, the staple ingredients, the techniques. Cooking is one of the best ways to travel without going anywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I never do this. I’m better at cataloguing what I haven’t done than recognising what I have. This summer I’m sitting down and actually writing out ten things \u2014 big, small, quiet, significant \u2014 that I’m genuinely proud of. I think I need the reminder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nothing complicated \u2014 a pizza, homemade lemonade, cookies, pancakes. Something with enough steps to feel like a real activity and enough deliciousness at the end to make them proud. I want them to grow up knowing that cooking is fun, that the kitchen isn’t intimidating, and that their aunt makes really good food. The mess is part of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I know which one. You probably know which one too. The conversation that sits quietly in the background, unfinished, taking up space. This summer I’m having it, because carrying unspoken things is exhausting and I’m tired of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I’m leaving this one open on purpose. I don’t know yet what it is \u2014 maybe it’s a decision, a risk, a commitment, a change. But I want to do at least one thing this season that isn’t just about enjoyment but about genuinely moving my life forward. Something that matters. Something real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thirty things. One summer. I’m not going to do all of them perfectly and that’s entirely fine. But I’m going to do as many as I can, fully and without half-heartedness, and I’m going to pay attention while I do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This summer is not going to blur. I’m making sure of it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I made myself a promise this year. No more summers that blur into one another, where September arrives and I can’t quite remember what I did with June. This one is going to be different. I sat down with a coffee, opened a new notes page, and wrote down everything I genuinely want to do, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":61,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-59","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-life"],"yoast_head":"\n18. Build a Morning Ritual That’s Mine<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
19. Master One Impressive Recipe<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
20. Start Journaling Again<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
21. Finish My First Crochet Project<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
22. Do a Proper Digital Detox Weekend<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
23. Audit My Friendships Quietly<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
24. Set One Real Goal for the Rest of the Year<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
25. Spend One Full Day Alone With No Plans<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
26. Cook My Way Through a Cuisine I Don’t Know<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
27. Write Down 10 Things I’m Proud of From the Last Year<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
28. Teach My Nephews How to Make Something in the Kitchen<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
29. Have One Honest Conversation I’ve Been Putting Off<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
30. Do Something This Summer That Future Me Will Thank Me For<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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