Some people, when they’re in a bit of a funk, go to therapy to uncover the underlying cause.

I go op shopping.

Which is not much different from your regular retail therapy, except that I don’t pay full price. I don’t need the guilt to compound my issues, whatever they are.

Which is exactly what the problem was: I didn’t know what my problem was. But I was hoping to find the answers at the op shops.

The answers came in the form of eccentric jumpers and a jacket that slightly veer off my usual aesthetics. A mix of cute, loud, and goth summarising my state of emotion to the tune of $18.05.

Definitely cheaper than a shrink. I walked out the automatic door feeling happy. Ish. Into the waiting arms of a supportive husband ready to drive me home.

I think I know now what my recurrent problem is. I overthink life too much. And it doesn’t help that Instagram bolsters these feelings. Everyone else looking like they’re having the grandest time in their well-curated, regularly updated accounts.

And here I am just… simply living life. Taking my daughter to her gymnastics class. Sitting on my husband’s lap as we ride on his boombox, R&B music blasting and not giving a single fuck. I’m glad I finally took his offer for a ride and see for myself how enjoyable the experience actually is.

And once the groceries have been sorted while waiting for Raven’s class to finish, I come home to my side of the couch and my book and some big crunchy grapes that are so satisfying to nibble on while reading.

It’s a very ordinary life. But it’s also a beautiful one.

So what was my problem again?

*Raven at 8 years old