Who Am I?

Most people would call me high maintenance. From my carefully coiffed curls to my manicured toes, I like things to be just so. And when it comes to dirt, mess, even the faintest whiff of anything remotely funky, I turn virtually apoplectic. To call me a diva is an understatement - I’m a fully-fledged, tiara-toting, pampered princess. So when I decided to jack in my top-notch job and sign up for a 3-month backpacking tour of India; my friends and family thought I’d completely lost the plot.  Nevertheless, here I am.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that I’ve come here to “find myself” – after all, I’m pushing 40, divorced, childless and I won’t lie to you, I’m more than a little bit jaded by way my life has unfolded so far. But actually, I’m not in the slightest bit lost. I know exactly who I am. I just don’t particularly like myself. I’ve tried therapy, spirituality and seriously considered cosmetic surgery. But the monotonous hum of self-loathing continues to form the soundtrack to my life. I could carry on crying into my cornflakes, but I don’t think “victim” is a look an almost 40 year old should rock.

So I’ve swapped my skinny jeans and stacked heels for some baggy bottoms and a pair of flip-flops. I’ve scraped off the make-up that masks my misery, surrendered my curls to a thicket of wild and unruly frizz and become an Indian Slummer. I feel naked and alone and for the first time in my life I’m facing up to myself. I really don’t like what I see, but I’m hoping a lot will change in the next 3 months.