Forty Years, Forty Lessons

The Unfiltered Wisdom of a Life Well-Lived

Today is my birthday, and it’s a big one—40. A number I once dreaded as if it marked the end of the road, the beginning of the slow fade. But now that I’m here, I realise that while it is an ending of sorts, it’s not the one I feared. Instead, it’s the end of nearly four decades of relentless soul-searching—of figuring out who I am, what I want, where I want to be, who with, what for, and the ultimate big ‘why?’

To get to this place, I’ve been through the wringer, as many of us have—too much heartbreak, self-flagellation, and doubt; too little self-worth, confidence, and calm. It’s been a rollercoaster, one that I often wished I could step off, even if just for a moment to catch my breath.

I searched for myself by hopping between countries, trying on different personas, investing in relationships, friendships, and work contexts that didn’t serve me, all in the desperate hope that I’d find validation, recognition, or just a sense of belonging. Spoiler: I didn’t. Instead, each move, each man, each awkward situation, each dumb decision, each tear-soaked revelation steered me away from the wrong and nudged me closer to the right path. But it wasn’t a lightning bolt of clarity—it was more like a never-ending, bumpy, uncomfortable course correction that took years and years and years.

And now, here I stand, on the edge of this number, ‘4-0,’ which used to terrify me, especially when I’d promised myself that by now, I’d have it all figured out. I’d be a grown-up. I’d have the ‘stuff’ of grown-up life and be sorted. And to some extent, I do. I’m a mother to two incredible babies who light up my world every day. In a few weeks, I’ll marry the love of my life. I have a beautiful cottage in the countryside that feels like a fairytale to come home to. And I’ve built a thriving business from the ground up. I guess I do have it all. But I’m not done.

To get here, I’ve had to learn, grow, get uncomfortable, screw up (spectacularly), let go, hold on, believe in myself, say no, say yes, hit the gas hard, slam the brakes, and cry and laugh more than I ever thought possible.

And I feel compelled to share some of my journey by distilling it into 40 pieces of ‘wisdom’—the tough lessons I’ve had to embrace, and am still learning to embrace, that have shaped me so far. These are the truths that have been hammered into my mind and psyche, the ones I believe are crucial to my development and identity.

I’m sharing this with you as much as I am reminding myself. These lessons are the foundation of my first four decades, but there’s so much more to come. So much more I want to learn, to grow into, to reach for.

So yes, 40 is an ending, but it’s also the beginning—of a bigger, bolder chapter that starts with relishing the gift of growing older. Because, my god, aren’t we lucky to do so? To deepen, to become, to care less about the trivial, and to demand more of ourselves and our lives.

I can’t wait.

Self-Discovery and Personal Growth

Self-discovery is the lifelong game we all play, whether we know it or not. It’s the unglamorous, often messy work of peeling back layers, shedding old skins, and wrestling with the person you see in the mirror. It’s about asking the tough questions, getting lost in the answers, and emerging on the other side with a clearer sense of who you are—only to realise there’s always more to uncover.

Personal growth isn’t about perfection; it’s about progression. It’s the slow burn of becoming, the quiet revolution within that propels you forward, even when the road is dark and uncertain. This is where the real magic happens—not in the destination, but in the evolution.

So, let’s dive in. These are the hard-earned lessons that have shaped me, the insights that have guided me, and the truths that have set me free. Because at the end of the day, the most important relationship you’ll ever have is the one with yourself. And it’s time to start treating it with the respect it deserves.

1. Talk To Your Future Self.

A therapist once guided me through an exercise that has become a cornerstone of my personal growth—a quiet, profound practice that’s both grounding and enlightening. She asked me to close my eyes and picture a calm, serene place where I could meet and converse with my older self, the me 20 or 30 years from now. The idea was simple: to seek her wisdom, to sense-check my decisions, and to help me sift through what truly mattered and what didn’t.

For me, that place was an old log in the middle of a bluebell field, deep in the woods during springtime. It was a spot I remembered vividly from my childhood—a place that always felt calm yet charged with possibility, with a beautiful blanket of electric blue stretching as far as the eye could see. It was there, in that quiet corner of my mind, that I found her—my future self. She’s wise, she’s witty, she’s kind, and she takes none of my bullshit.

Whenever I feel lost, uncertain, or overwhelmed, I return to that bluebell field. I sit on that log, close my eyes, and ask her for guidance. It’s such a simple practice, but the impact is profound. She helps me cut through the noise, refocus on my priorities, and let go of the things that don’t really matter. She reminds me of the person I’m becoming and steers me toward the choices that align with that vision.

Talking to your older self might sound a bit woo-woo, but trust me—it’s one of the most powerful tools you can have in your personal growth toolkit. It’s like having a wise, future version of you on speed dial, ready to offer perspective whenever you need it. So find your place—whether it’s a field of bluebells or somewhere else that feels right—and start the conversation. You might be surprised at just how much your future self has to offer.

2. Embrace Your Multitudes.

For the longest time, I thought I had to be one thing—a ‘type,’ a neatly packaged version of myself that was easy to define and even easier to digest. Whether in personal relationships or professional ones, I believed that I needed to shape myself into a specific offering, something people could easily comprehend. But in doing so, I cut off so many parts of myself, leaving me feeling hollow and confused for far too long.

It’s taken me almost four decades to figure out the truth: we, as human beings, are complex creatures. We can be paradoxes, contradictions wrapped in enigmas, with unfathomable depths and spiky edges. We contain multitudes. Each aspect of who we are—no matter how contradictory or confusing—deserves exploration, configuration, and most importantly, acceptance.

When we try to limit ourselves to just one thing, we do a disservice not only to ourselves but to the world around us. We box in our potential, clip our own wings, and dim the parts of us that make us unique. It might feel safer, more comfortable, but it’s a false comfort that leads to a life half-lived.

So here’s the truth I’ve come to embrace: you don’t have to be just one thing. You don’t have to fit into a neat little box. You are a kaleidoscope of experiences, emotions, and possibilities. Embrace the parts of you that don’t make sense, the contradictions that confuse you, and the depths that scare you. Respect every part of yourself, because each one adds a unique hue to the masterpiece that is you.

3. Find Your Voice

I used to be a parrot, echoing other people's ideas, opinions, and beliefs, because I wasn’t sure of my own. I thought that by ‘borrowing’ and mimicking, I’d be more likeable, it’d be easier to seem cool, clever, or to belong. Looking back now, it gives me the ick—the amount of shit I nodded along to, gross. I think I was scared of looking stupid, of being wrong, of seeming weird, uncool, or out of place. And on the rare occasion when I did voice my truth, I’d get a few ‘???’ responses, which sent me running straight back to the safety of my parrot perch.

It took me a long time to start finding my voice—my ideas, my lens, my belief system. It’s not that it wasn’t there; it’s that I buried it under the weight of other people’s voices, voices I’d deemed more worthy than my own. And it wasn’t until I started to speak up and out that the floodgates opened, and self-knowledge, belief, and confidence came pouring out of me.

Of course, I met resistance from others, and I still do. But I’ve learned that it’s okay to disagree, to be unliked, to hear ‘I don’t get it.’ Because finding your voice is more important than being part of the chorus that drowns you out. Your voice is your power, your truth, your unique contribution to the world. Don’t trade it for the comfort of blending in.

The world doesn’t need another echo. It needs your voice—strong, clear, and unapologetically yours.

4. Be Your Own Hype Woman.

For far too long, I waited to be patted on the head, to hear someone say, “Good girl,” or hand me a gold star. I was desperate to be told, “You’re good enough,” “You’re smart enough,” “You can do it.” But by doing so, I handed over my power on a silver platter. I gave someone else the ability to lift me up or crash me into the ground, to fill me with confidence or strip it away completely. And sadly, in the industry I chose, the latter is more common.

I let that control me. I let it keep me captive—small, quiet, never quite ‘enough.’ And fuck, that hurts. What a shit place to occupy.

At some point, I realised I had to become my own hype woman. No one’s going to shout your praises louder than you can. No one’s going to see your potential as clearly as you do. So why not step into that role yourself? Celebrate your wins, even the small ones. Speak up about your achievements. Remind yourself daily of the badass you are.

Being your own hype woman isn’t about arrogance or bragging. It’s about reclaiming your power, owning your story, and refusing to downplay your brilliance just to make others comfortable. It’s about looking in the mirror and giving yourself the pep talks you need, the ones that push you to keep going, to dream bigger, to take that leap.

So stop waiting for the applause from others and start clapping for yourself. Be the loudest, proudest voice in your corner, because you deserve that energy. The world will catch up eventually, but until then, hype yourself like your life depends on it—because, in a way, it does.

5. Perfectionism Is A Trap.

Another therapist story—because honestly, they do have a knack for hitting you with those painful, but necessary, revelations. I used to have an issue with anything being out of place in my home. I couldn’t sleep if the kitchen was dirty, I’d make sure everything was perfectly symmetrical on the bookshelf, I colour-coded my clothes, and every night, without fail, I’d plump every sofa cushion. I thought I was just house proud, but turns out, I was something of a control freak with a subconscious belief that if my house was perfect, I was doing okay.

So, in an effort to break that control freak hold, my therapist gave me the simplest, most dreadful task: leave a wet towel on the floor overnight. The horror. I actually baulked. What? Are you fucking crazy, why would I do that?! But she insisted, and even though I thought she was batshit, I did it.

Man, it was hard. I don’t think I got to sleep until 2 a.m., obsessing over that damn towel on the floor, desperately wanting to hang it up. But I didn’t. Then I left a cup out. Then the books weren’t in height order. And so on, and so on.

Now, I’m not saying my home is chaotic—far from it. I’m still obsessed with aesthetics, but now I can be okay when something’s out of place. And I’ve realised that perfectionism is a trap. It’s a way for us to seek control over the uncontrollable, a distraction to dull the hard stuff or the challenging feelings. It’s a way to keep ourselves locked in order and organisation, which ultimately stops us from doing the messy work of unravelling, growing, learning, and becoming.

Perfectionism isn’t about being your best self; it’s about keeping yourself small, safe, and stuck. It’s a shiny, well-organised cage that stops you from stepping into the chaos where real life—and real growth—happens. So, let go of the need for everything to be perfect. Leave the towel on the floor, let the cup sit out, and give yourself permission to embrace the beautiful mess that is life.

6. Rage Becomes Her.

"If you could say it with a smile, maybe people would listen to you more," "If you could refrain from swearing, you'd be taken more seriously," "You need to calm down, you're being hysterical." Oh, how many times I’ve had to sit through people trying to silence me, to dim my fire, to make me smaller, more easy to dismiss, ignore, or talk over. WELL, FUCK THAT.

I used to swallow my rage, redirecting it through my perfectionism, heavy weight lifting, burning resentment, or randomly bursting into tears in toilet cubicles when I couldn't bottle it up any longer. I’d mistake it for sadness, but deep down, I was just really, really pissed off. Then I read Soraya Chemaly's brilliant book Rage Becomes Her, and everything changed. I finally woke up to the fact that rage is a tool, anger is an accelerant, being fucked off is a buoyancy aid, and swearing is just so fucking satisfying.

But here’s the thing: we’ve gendered it all. Rage in women is labelled as unbecoming, off-putting, shocking, uncomfortable. It makes people—especially men—see any woman who dares to cry foul as hysterical, emotional, or difficult. But it’s precisely when I’ve found my rage that I’ve propelled myself forward—leaving shitty jobs, shitty relationships, sticking two fingers up to being poorly paid, badly treated, underestimated, and unseen.

Rage is a fire, and if cultivated correctly, it can be directed in a manner that is terrifying but intentional, rather than all-consuming. It’s not about losing control; it’s about harnessing that raw, explosive energy and using it to fuel your rise. Anger and rage are healthy, powerful, and transformative. They’re what push you to demand better, to refuse to be silenced, to stand your ground, and to make damn sure that you’re seen and heard.

So, stop swallowing your anger. Don’t let anyone tell you to smile more or to tone it down. Let your rage out, let it propel you, let it set the world on fire—on your terms. Use it well, and watch how quickly things start to change.

7. People Can Only Meet You As Deeply As They’ve Met Themselves.

I used to get so frustrated when people didn’t seem to be on the same wavelength. I took it as a personal challenge—to explain myself better, to get them on side, to do the work for them so they could see my worth, my wisdom, my effort. But almost every time, I ended up flat on my ass, exhausted from pouring myself into people who either didn’t want it or couldn’t see the value in it.

Then I stumbled across a quote that hit me like a ton of bricks: “Remember: despite how open, peaceful, and loving you attempt to be, people can only meet you as deeply as they’ve met themselves.” The first time I read it, I burst into tears, overwhelmed by the recognition of its truth.

We often blame ourselves when people don’t treat us in a loving way, or when they don’t seem to want to understand us. We think there’s something wrong with us, something we need to fix. But the simple reality is that they do not share our lens, our worldview, or our level of understanding—and that’s okay.

This quote was a revelation for me. It taught me that not everyone is going to get it, not everyone is going to meet you where you are, and that’s not a reflection of your worth. People can only connect with you to the depth that they’ve connected with themselves. If someone hasn’t done the work, hasn’t explored their own depths, they simply can’t see or appreciate yours.

And that’s not your burden to carry.

So now, instead of trying to drag people into my depths, I honour where they’re at, while also honouring where I am. I no longer flog myself trying to make them see me or understand me. I meet people where they are and save my energy for those who can meet me where I am. And that’s not just okay—it’s necessary.

8. You Never ‘Arrive’. You Become.

For years, I was chasing this elusive destination called “arrival.” I had it in my head that one day, I’d finally have it all figured out. I’d be the person I was meant to be, doing the work I was meant to do, living the life I was meant to live. I thought there’d be this moment where I’d look around and say, “Yes, I’ve arrived. This is it.”

I’d build up my birthdays to be these milestones of success or failure. My 30th was the pinnacle of this madness—there I was, single, out of work, and completely unsure of what my next steps should be. I told myself I’d failed at life… at 30! Bonkers, right? Every time I landed a new job or entered into a new relationship, I’d think, “This is it! I’ve done it, I’ve succeeded.” But when those things inevitably ended in disappointment—a bad boss, an emotionally unavailable guy, an unshakable sense of unfulfillment—I felt like I’d failed all over again.

I kept telling myself that each new chapter was “it,” and when it wasn’t, the fallout was brutal. I took it all as a personal failure. It was tough. I was my own worst critic.

But here’s the truth: that moment of “arrival” doesn’t exist. You never truly “arrive.” Instead, you’re constantly becoming.

Life isn’t about reaching some final, fixed point where everything falls perfectly into place. It’s about evolving, shifting, growing, and changing. It’s about shedding old skins, trying on new ones, and understanding that each version of yourself is just a stepping stone to the next.

There’s no finish line. No grand arrival where you get to kick back and say, “I’m done now. This is me, forever.” Thank god for that, because how boring would that be? The beauty of life lies in the becoming—in the fact that you are always in a state of flux, always a work in progress.

Every experience, every challenge, every victory, and every failure is part of the process. They shape you, mould you, and push you further along the path of who you’re meant to be. And just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, life will throw something new your way to remind you that the journey isn’t over.

Mindfulness and Well-being

Mindfulness and well-being—two buzzwords that get tossed around like confetti in the wellness world, but what do they really mean? For me, it’s not about green smoothies, yoga retreats, or finding your zen on a mountaintop (though, hey, if that works for you, go for it). It’s about the gritty, real-life practice of being present in a world that constantly tries to pull you away from yourself.

It’s about learning to sit with your thoughts instead of running from them, finding peace in the chaos, and taking care of your mental and physical health like it’s the most important job you’ll ever have—because it is. It’s about recognizing that well-being isn’t a destination you arrive at once you’ve got everything under control (spoiler: you never will), but a daily practice of showing up for yourself, even when it’s hard.

Mindfulness isn’t about clearing your mind of all thoughts—it’s about making peace with the noise, knowing when to tune in and when to tune out. Well-being isn’t about perfection—it’s about balance, about knowing when to push and when to rest. It’s the art of being present in your own life, of finding beauty in the mundane, and of cultivating a deep, unshakeable sense of peace that comes from within.

This section is all about the practices, the habits, and the small, intentional changes that make a big difference. It’s about embracing the messy, imperfect process of caring for yourself—mind, body, and soul. Because when you learn to be present in your own life, you unlock the power to live it fully.

9. The Art of Surrender.

Let’s get one thing straight: I used to be a full-blown control freak. I liked to be the orchestrator of all things, the conductor of my life’s symphony. Productivity? That was my jam. The idea of slowing down or, god forbid, “going with the flow,” wasn’t just alien—it was downright terrifying.

Then I became a mother. What. The. Fuck.

No one tells you that having a baby is the craziest, most chaotic, most wonderfully, terribly, magical, morose, spectacular, shitty, affirming, awful, brilliant, and dreadful thing you can do. In those early days, it’s like being hit by a truck while fighting to retain perfect upright posture. Impossible. And wow, did I struggle. I’m still struggling, because here’s the thing: to be a mother is to surrender, whether you like it or not. You don’t control anything, and it’s unlikely that you ever will again.

This screaming bundle of joy arrives to make you feel the most fulfilled and fucked up you can possibly be, so suck it up, buttercup. 

My first months as a new mum were a rude awakening—the complete destruction of my sense of self, my ability to orchestrate or plan anything, and the brutal lesson of just surrendering to the moment. Accepting what is and trying to make the best of it. Slowing down, breathing it in, sitting, staring, and just being. I loved it and I hated it in equal measure. It changed me.

I’m still very much a planner, a doer, a recovering control junkie, but now I’ve learned to surrender, to let go, to pivot, to adapt, and to allow for bumps (or craters) in the road. Motherhood taught me that sometimes, surrendering isn’t about giving up—it’s about giving in to the flow of life, about understanding that not everything needs to be controlled or perfected. It’s about finding peace in the chaos, about being okay with not knowing what’s next, and trusting that you’ll handle it when it comes.

Surrender isn’t weakness—it’s strength. It’s the ability to roll with the punches, to adapt, and to keep moving forward, even when everything feels out of control. It’s about realising that life isn’t a carefully orchestrated symphony—it’s a jazz improvisation, and the beauty lies in the unexpected notes.

10. Happiness Is A Choice.

For so long, I looked for happiness in all the wrong places—in people, in projects, in things. I thought if I found the right relationship, I’d be happy. If I bought that bag, I’d be happy. If I landed that job, I’d be happy. And maybe I was… but only for a fleeting moment. That’s because hanging your happiness on anything other than yourself and how you choose to go about your life is pure folly.

Happiness isn’t a destination, a goal, or something you achieve once and for all. It’s a daily choice, a lens through which you view the world. It’s not about the big, shiny moments or the perfect circumstances; it’s about finding joy in the small, everyday things. It’s about choosing to be optimistic, to be grateful for the little things, the moments, the gestures, and the trivial everyday encounters that make life what it is.

For me, one of the ways I’ve truly practised this is through gardening. Back in my London flat, I didn’t even have a garden—or any outdoor space, for that matter. I couldn’t keep a cactus alive. But here in the countryside, I’ve discovered a love for gardening that’s so fulfilling because it teaches me to practise happiness as a habit. The joy when a rose blooms, the satisfaction of deadheading, the earthy pleasure of getting my hands into the soil to prepare bulbs for spring—these are the moments that ground me in the present.

Gardening reminds me that happiness is cultivated, nurtured in the quiet, everyday moments, and that it’s found in the process, not just the result.

11. When You Get Stuck, Walk.

I’ve always struggled in offices. The idea of walking in, sitting down at a desk, and being creative between 9 a.m. and 6 p.m. never made sense to me. Creativity isn’t something you can schedule—it’s as much a physical act as a mental one. And for me, I simply can’t be creative if I’m sitting still. I have to move. Movement is my release, my accelerant. My brain fires up when my body does.

I figured this out pretty early in my career. I’d arrive at my desk, say hi, and then promptly disappear for a walk around the block or head to the nearest park, swinging on the swings like a kid, just moving, moving, and thinking. If you’ve ever had writer’s block, if you can’t seem to crack a problem, or you’re staring at a blank slide unsure where to start—get up. Move. Walk. Put one foot in front of the other, away from the desk, the office, the people, and those familiar four walls.

It’s not just some quirky habit. A Stanford University study found that walking can increase creative output by up to 60% compared to sitting still. Another study found that walking helps people generate more ideas and explore different perspectives—a process known as divergent thinking. So don’t just take my word for it; science backs it up.

When you’re stuck, the worst thing you can do is stay still. Creativity needs space to breathe, and sometimes that space is a path, a sidewalk, or a trail. So, next time you’re stuck, don’t sit there waiting for inspiration to strike—get up, get out, and walk it out. Your best ideas might just be a few steps away.

12. Practice Consistency.

Like many, I’ve fallen victim to big ambitions and sporadic execution—stop/starts that lead nowhere fast. I’d set myself lofty goals with all the best intentions, only to fall short because the behaviour change required felt insurmountable. Then I stumbled across James Clear’s Atomic Habits, and everything shifted for me. No more grand expectations, no more setting myself up for failure. Instead, I embraced the power of small habits, daily consistency, and the magic that happens when you focus on the sum of the parts over time.

It’s the consistency that’s truly transformational. Take something as simple as daily steps. 10,000 steps a day doesn’t sound like much, but that’s 3.65 million steps a year—the equivalent of 69 marathons. Want to write a book? Start by writing a few Substack posts a month. It’s a way to flex your writing muscles without the pressure of producing a novel right out of the gate. Want to find your voice in your industry? Commit to reading five articles a day and crafting your POV on each one. Over time, these small, consistent actions build into something significant.

A lot of people look at my work and assume I set up Bodacious five minutes ago, thinking I’ve got some secret formula for success that I’m not sharing. But the truth is, I’ve been in this industry for over 20 years, and the key to my success is simple: consistency over time equals progress.

Small steps, taken consistently, can move mountains. So, ditch the lofty goals that lead to burnout and embrace the power of small, sustainable habits. It’s not about making one giant leap—it’s about making tiny, daily steps in the right direction. That’s how you get where you want to go.

Resilience and Adaptability

Life has a funny way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them. One minute, you’re cruising along, and the next, you’re dodging obstacles, trying to keep your balance. Resilience and adaptability are more than just survival skills; they’re the keys to navigating life’s ups and downs. They’re about learning to dance with the unpredictable, to bend without breaking, and to find strength in the face of uncertainty.

Resilience isn’t about being unshakable; it’s about getting up every time you’re knocked down. It’s about facing challenges head-on, knowing that you might stumble, but you’ll always find your footing again. Adaptability, on the other hand, is about flow—it’s the ability to pivot, to shift gears when life takes an unexpected turn, and to thrive in the midst of change.

13. Build Your Boundaries.

This one’s tough, because for most of my life, my boundaries were as solid as a sieve. I’d let people walk right through them, stomp all over them, and then wonder why I felt so shitty all the time—inviting the wrong people into my orbit, putting up with crappy behaviour, and generally feeling like I couldn’t stand my ground. And here’s why: I thought boundaries made me unlikable. I thought they’d be off-putting, that I’d be seen as difficult, challenging, or high maintenance. I worried that fewer people would want to be in my life.

And to an extent, I was right. Boundaries are off-putting. They are challenging. And yes, they will result in fewer people being a part of your life. But that’s not a bad thing; it’s a brilliant result.

By drawing lines in the sand around your values, your expectations, your emotional well-being, and your belief systems, you’re not just protecting yourself—you’re defining yourself. You’re signalling both who you are and who you want your tribe to be.

Two quotes I love when it comes to boundaries: “Be kind and full of love, but have boundaries like a motherfucker,” and “You will be too much for some people. Those are not your people,” by Glennon Doyle. Boundaries aren’t about shutting people out; they’re about letting the right people in—the ones who respect you, uplift you, and meet you where you are.

Your boundaries are your way of saying, “This is who I am, and this is what I stand for.” They’re not barriers—they’re the foundation of your self-respect, your peace, and your personal power. And that’s something worth protecting.

14. Argue Well.

I once had a boyfriend who used to say, “If we argue, it means we’re not compatible. I don’t argue with my friends, so I shouldn’t argue with you as my partner unless we’re just not right for one another.” Firstly, he was right about one thing: we were definitely not right for one another. Secondly, he was an ass. Because to suggest that arguing or conflict means fundamental issues or unresolvable tensions is immature, narrow-minded, and, quite frankly, dumb.

Conflict is human nature, and arguing is a form of communication. When we argue, we’re not tearing each other down; we’re airing grievances, bringing them to the surface, and giving them the attention they deserve. We’re not doing it to flog each other with our issues, but to work them through and find resolution. God, I wish I’d known this when I was younger.

Arguing is a skill—seriously. It’s something you can learn: how to argue well, how to argue respectfully, and how to argue with intention toward positive outcomes. Learning the art of conflict is incredibly important because it allows you to face anything head-on and find a path through it—whether it’s with your partner, your kids, your colleagues, your boss, or that guy in the queue in front of you.

Arguing isn’t about winning, being the most spiteful, shouting the loudest, or slamming doors in dramatic fashion. It’s about working things through, searching for mutual ground, and settling on solutions. To argue well is one of life’s greatest unlocks—it’s the key to resolving tension, deepening relationships, and building a foundation of trust and understanding.

15. Pick Your Battles.

"Arguing with idiots is like playing chess with a pigeon. No matter how good you are, the bird is going to shit on the board and strut around like it won anyway." Ain’t that the truth. The amount of time I’ve wasted arguing with pigeon-people is downright embarrassing—desperately wanting to "win," but what does winning even look like when someone is hell-bent on antagonising you, refusing to see logic, or simply being uncivil?

Picking your battles is the key to protecting your peace. Especially these days, when everyone’s a keyboard warrior, division is the default, and weirdo’s and wankers are given pedestals on X, thanks to the wanker-in-chief himself, Mr. Musk. But to save your time, energy, and mental health, you need to know when to step back. When it’s perfectly okay to say, “Cool, you do you,” or “I don’t agree, but I’m done with this conversation—have a swell day.” It’s not a loss. You haven’t admitted defeat. You’re not "wrong." You’re just choosing not to waste your breath debating the merits of feminism with an incel chugging Mountain Dew in his mother’s basement, furiously covering his keyboard with Cheeto dust as he types out "DUMB BITCH" in all caps over and over again.

At that point, it’s totally ok for you to say, “Bollocks to this,” use the block button, log off, and go pour yourself a large glass of wine. Switch on Emily in Paris and sink into that shallow but oh-so-satisfying plastic Parisian world. Some people are not worth your time, and some battles are not worth engaging in. Knowing the difference between raising your voice for good and raising your blood pressure for no reason is critical.

16. Forgive, Forgive, Forgive.

Holding grudges is toxic. They’re dead weights anchoring you down, small poisons that gradually spread and overwhelm you. They’re like pieces of glass that dig deeper and deeper inside you until they pierce vital organs. The truth is, grudges hurt you more than they ever hurt those you hold them against.

I used to carry a running list in my mind of people I really didn’t like—those who had slighted me, burned me, hurt me, or pissed me off. But in doing so, I was allowing them to take up space in my day, in my life, in my future. These people, these offences, were taking up the space I could have and should have used for my loved ones, for special moments, for joyful things. I’d dredge up their offences on occasion, relishing in feeling aggrieved all over again, simmering in rage and pain, imagining how I’d right the wrong. But to what end? I was making my life about getting them back or sniping in response. How utterly ridiculous, time-consuming, and self-sabotaging.

Instead, forgiving easily became the answer. An uncomfortable one, yes, but also a freeing one. Forgiveness is a way to sever the emotional ties that bind you to negativity, allowing you to quickly acknowledge the hurt, move on, and move past it. By forgiving, you reclaim your mental and emotional space, giving it to something that fills you up rather than something that drags you down.

So now, I forgive fast. I say, “No harm, no foul,” and I move on. It’s not about letting people off the hook—it’s about unhooking yourself from the weight of the grudge. Forgiving doesn’t mean you forget or excuse the hurt; it means you choose your peace over your pride, your joy over your anger. It means you stop letting the past poison your present.

Forgiveness is the ultimate act of self-care. It’s not about them—it’s about you, your well-being, and your ability to live a life unburdened by the weight of perceived slights. So forgive, forgive, forgive, and make room for the things that truly matter.

17. Hold The Vision, Trust The Process.

I had this exact quote—*“Hold the vision, trust the process”—*written on the chalkboard in my kitchen in my last London flat after moving in following yet another breakup. I was devastated, convinced that my dream of having a family had ended once and for all. Though I’d lost hope in the moment, I wanted to hold onto faith for the future, knowing where I wanted life to lead me and choosing to trust the winding, pot-holed road that might get me there.

I have to admit, sometimes I’d look up at that swirling calligraphy, which I’d artfully created while drunk, alone, and in floods of tears, and I’d cry anew, thinking, “I’m kidding myself,” and “This isn’t the life I wanted,” and “How the fuck did I end up here, so far from where I’d hoped to be?” But then the next morning, clearer-headed and clearer-eyed, I’d read it again and trust—that it would work out one way or another, that the universe had my back, that I had to keep going. I knew that in a roundabout way, I’d get to where I was supposed to be, right on time. And I did.

Now, I’m not saying that a quote on a blackboard made it happen or that it was some sort of magical manifestation, but I am saying that the mindset of “Don’t give up, keep holding that vision in your mind” matters. It spurs you on, helps you keep going, and keeps you course-correcting and steering toward your desired life, your dreams, your wishes.

We often get frustrated and dejected when life doesn’t follow our linear plan, with each piece falling into place in chronological order, but that’s not how life works. It’s messy, complex, riddled with detours and tangents and steep drops and high climbs. But if you want something badly enough, if you hold it in your mind’s eye, you have to trust that you’ll get there, even if the route isn’t as direct as you’d like.

So, hold the vision—whatever it is for you. Keep it in your heart, in your mind, in your daily thoughts. Trust that the process, with all its twists and turns, will lead you exactly where you’re meant to be. It might not happen on your timeline, and it might not look like what you imagined, but if you keep going, if you keep believing, you’ll arrive. And when you do, you’ll realise that the journey, with all its messiness, was what made the destination so worth it.

18. Character Building Experiences Suck When They Happen.

I’ve hit rock bottom more times than I care to count, and each time, it feels like the end of the world. I’m convinced it’s going to kill me, and I can’t imagine ever feeling okay again. And yet… somehow, I do. When I was 28, I moved back to the UK from Sydney after five years away, and my life came crashing down. I went from having a 10-year relationship, a high-flying job, and my own home to being single, unemployed, and living with my mum in a tiny village in Hampshire. It was brutal—like someone had hit the reset button on my entire existence.

I had to rebuild everything from scratch: finding a place to live, finding a job, and figuring out who I was as an adult after a decade in a partnership that started when I was 18. It was the worst I’ve ever felt—alone, scared, broken, defeated, heartbroken. But bit by bit, I crawled out of that hole, and I did it. It took years. Honestly, I don’t think I really found my footing again until my mid-thirties. But that journey was the biggest learning experience of my life. I had to pick up every shattered piece and rebuild it into something resembling the life I wanted.

Since then (and even before then), I’ve been through major upheavals, crashes, and burns—each one feeling absolutely horrific in the moment. But looking back, I can see that those detours were shaping me, steering me toward where I was supposed to be. All of this is to say that when you find yourself in that hole, when it feels overwhelming and impossible, those are the most valuable moments of your life. That’s your character being forged, your strength being tested and proven, your ability to surrender and rebuild being reinforced.

These times absolutely suck when you’re in the eye of the storm, but when they pass, you’re all the better for it. So go with it, let the Universe destroy you, so that you can be remade. It’s in those moments, when everything feels like it’s falling apart, that the real work happens. The work that shapes you, moulds you, and prepares you for the life you’re meant to live.

Curiosity and Learning

I’m a sponge. If I’m not learning, I’m bored shitless—I can’t function. I need to be stretched, exploring new frontiers, indulging my curiosity from all angles. Sitting still? Not a chance, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Curiosity is the spark that keeps life interesting, the engine that drives you forward, and the fuel that keeps your inner fire burning. It’s that insatiable itch to know more, to dig deeper, to explore the unknown. Learning is the journey that curiosity takes you on—a never-ending adventure that shapes who you are and who you’re becoming.

In a world that’s constantly evolving, staying curious and committed to learning is what keeps you growing, keeps you engaged, and keeps you open to new possibilities. It’s about asking questions, challenging assumptions, and never settling for “just enough.” Knowledge isn’t a destination; it’s a lifelong pursuit that enriches every part of your existence.

19. Follow Your Curiosity.

I get bored easily. I need new ideas, thoughts, and avenues to explore, or else my brain rebels and switches off. I’ve always been this way, yet for the longest time, I was told I was flighty, fickle, and prone to giving up on things—by teachers, by bosses. And so, I believed them. I tried to dig in, to commit, to do the same stuff over and over again. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do it. My brain would do its thing, say "nope," and my interest would fall away.

It’s only really been in the last five or six years that I’ve started to reframe this tendency from a weakness to a strength, seeing it less as being fickle and more as what I like to call a magpie mindset. I’ve written about it before, but in essence, it’s about giving myself the freedom to chase after shiny objects, to trust that I’m not flitting from thing to thing but actually building a portfolio of connected knowledge. My curiosity is navigating me toward adjacencies, richer and more profound depths, and new, novel concepts that link back to prior understandings.

I’m not doing shallow—I’m doing breadth. And breadth is magic because it’s when we have a vast array of knowledge that we can make unexpected but powerful connections. The book ‘Range’ by David Epstein was the first time I saw this idea clearly articulated—the concept being that a generalist, a "master of none," can actually be a superpower. It frees you from getting trapped in status quo or narrow fields where there’s only one accepted way of working. By following your curiosity wherever it may lead, the discoveries you make and the red threads you weave between seemingly unrelated dots can be far more expansive and explosive.

When you allow yourself to explore without constraint, you tap into the potential for creativity and innovation that’s beyond what a narrow focus could ever offer.

20. Explore A Portfolio Career.

Attached to this concept of following your curiosity without limits is what that approach can look like as a career. For the longest time, I thought there was something wrong with me because the idea of linear progression—rising through the ranks of one field or one discipline—would break me out in heart palpitations and nervous sweats. It felt so claustrophobic. So narrow. So tragic, really, that I could see my entire life mapped out ahead of me, with no real chance for spontaneous reinvention or new pathways. Even typing this out makes me feel all twitchy.

So, I had to craft a new option for myself—one that was less about conforming to the traditional norms of job and career paths, and more in line with my own preferences and tendencies. I called it a portfolio career. Think of it like a pizza, with each slice representing different skills, different lenses, different-but-complementary disciplines. I wanted to become that pizza, building out and refining each slice, and adding new ones when it felt right.

I jumped around—working in media agencies, creative agencies, innovation consultancies, client-side, landing in Ethiopia for Nike Foundation (now that was a humbling experience), and doing my own thing. I craved breadth—vast-but-connected experiences—so that I could become more rounded, more of a generalist, a Swiss Army knife kept super sharp.

And so far, it’s worked. To many, I seemed like a weirdo or an alien for going about things this way. Didn’t I want the big titles? The corner office? The fancy lunches? No, not really. Those always felt like rolling a turd in glitter—compensation trappings to make your linear life more palatable.

Thankfully, over the last few years, with the rise of remote work, the gig economy, and more people opting out of the conveyor belt, my way of thinking and working is becoming more widely accepted—even commonplace. And I’m thrilled that others are experiencing it and building their own pizzas because I truly believe it’s the best way for us all to be lifelong learners, to supercharge our ideas, and to keep pushing forward.

Exploring a portfolio career isn’t about avoiding commitment—it’s about committing to a life that’s rich, varied, and full of potential. It’s about crafting a career that feeds your soul as much as it fills your bank account, and it’s about trusting that your unique combination of experiences will lead you exactly where you’re meant to go.

21. Value Over Longevity.

For most of my career, I’ve been judged by prospective employers for having short stints in different places. They’d see my resume, with its list of roles that seemed to change every couple of months, and immediately peg me as unreliable or prone to abandoning ship. They wanted someone who would stay put, someone who would commit for the long haul. But here’s the thing—I’m not about clocking in years at a job for the sake of it. My value isn’t in how long I stay in a role; it’s in the immediate impact I make while I’m there.

Rather than seeing my varied career as a negative, I’ve had to reframe it for myself—and for those employers. It’s not about time commitment; it’s about the ability to come in, shake things up (in the best way), and be on my way. I’m the person who brings in fresh ideas, who sees connections others might miss, and who leverages a vast range of experiences to drive change, quickly and effectively.

I’ve worked across a multitude of fields, gathering a wealth of knowledge and a network of incredible people. Each position adds another layer of expertise, another slice of the pizza that makes up who I am. And when I show up at a new gig, I’m not just bringing the skills I’ve learned in that specific industry—I’m bringing everything I’ve picked up along the way.

So, here’s the lesson: longevity doesn’t always equal value. Sometimes, the most significant contributions are made by those who come in, make an immediate impact, and then move on to the next challenge. Your worth isn’t in how many years you’ve spent at one job—it’s in the knowledge, connections, and innovative ideas you bring to the table, no matter how long you’re there.

22. Learn To Say No.

I’ve been a serial yes-sayer. If someone asked me to take on a project, attend an event, or even just lend a hand, my default was always “yes.” I thought it made me likeable, dependable, and, let’s be honest, indispensable. But here’s the thing: every time I said “yes” to something I didn’t really want to do, I was saying “no” to myself—no to my own time, my own priorities, my own peace of mind.

Learning to say “no” has been one of the hardest but most liberating lessons of my life. It felt uncomfortable at first, like I was letting people down or missing out on opportunities. But the truth is, every “no” I utter now is a “yes” to something more meaningful—more time for my own projects, more energy for the people who really matter, and more space to breathe and think clearly.

Saying “no” isn’t about being selfish or difficult. It’s about setting boundaries and being fiercely protective of your time and energy. It’s about recognizing that you can’t pour from an empty cup, and if you keep saying “yes” to everything, you’ll end up drained, resentful, and spread so thin you’re barely a shadow of yourself.

I’ve learned that “no” is a powerful word. It’s a word that can keep you on track, that can help you focus on what really matters, and that can protect you from the burnout that comes with being everything to everyone. It’s not about shutting doors—it’s about closing the ones that don’t lead you where you want to go.

So, learn to say “no.” Say it confidently, say it clearly, and say it without guilt. Because every time you do, you’re saying “yes” to your own life, your own goals, and your own well-being. And trust me, that’s the most important “yes” you’ll ever give.

23. Get Money Literate.

When I was 18, I ran up £10k of credit card debt. Then, in a genius move of financial wizardry (or so I thought at the time), I took out a loan to cover that debt—and promptly ran the cards up again. It wasn’t until my 30th birthday that I finally paid off that debt and started moving in the other direction—making my money work for me instead of the other way around. I saved. I invested. I bought my first home at 37 and dove headfirst into a major renovation. I’ve been running my business and have had to learn the ins and outs of dividend tax (killer), VAT, PAYE, pensions, National Insurance, and so much more.

Money literacy is something we’re not taught in school. Instead, we get Pythagoras’s theorem (which, to this day, I have never used—told you so, Mrs. Sylvester). So, we have to teach ourselves. And here’s the thing: money is such a powerful force in your life—it’s freedom, it’s opportunity, it’s possibility, it’s a way to traverse your potential.

Getting money literate isn’t just about knowing how to budget or balance a cheque book (though that’s part of it). It’s about understanding how money works—how to save, how to invest, how to make it grow, and how to make it work for you. It’s about getting a grip on taxes, pensions, and all the other boring-sounding but crucial stuff that no one bothers to teach us. Because when you understand money, you gain control over it—and that control is liberating.

When I finally got my financial shit together, it was like unlocking a new level in life. I stopped being afraid of money, and started using it as a tool to build the life I wanted. Money literacy isn’t just about financial stability—it’s about empowerment. It’s about giving yourself the freedom to say “yes” to the things that matter, to take risks, to seize opportunities, and to live life on your terms.

So, if you haven’t already, get money literate. Learn about how money works, how to manage it, how to make it grow. Because once you do, you’ll find that money isn’t just paper or numbers in an account—it’s a powerful force that can propel you toward your dreams.

24. Be Interested And Interesting.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that to be interesting, you first have to be interested. The most fascinating people I know are those who read widely, think deeply, and constantly absorb a vast array of ideas, cultures, and realities. They’re not just laser-focused on their own field—they’re curious about everything. And that curiosity? It’s the fuel that keeps them—and their ideas—alive.

I’ve spent a good chunk of my career in strategy, and let me tell you, if all you do is read and think about strategy, you’re doing it wrong. Your inputs matter. If you’re not feeding your brain with a diverse range of sources, your outputs are going to be narrow, predictable, and, frankly, dull.

So, read novels, biographies, science fiction, history, poetry. Dive into art, music, and films from different cultures. Get lost in podcasts about things you know nothing about. Watch documentaries on subjects you’ve never even considered. The broader your inputs, the richer your perspectives become. It’s like a mental buffet—if you’re only picking from one dish, you’re missing out on all the flavours and textures that make a meal truly satisfying.

But it’s not just about consuming—it’s about creating, too. Write, even if it’s just for yourself. Think critically about what you’ve absorbed and how it connects to what you do. How does a novel’s exploration of human nature inform your understanding of consumer behaviour? How can a documentary on urban planning influence your approach to brand strategy? The dots are there—you just have to connect them.

Being interested means you’re always learning, always evolving. And being interesting? That’s the natural byproduct. When you’re genuinely curious about the world, when you let that curiosity guide your reading, your thinking, and your creating, you become a magnet for ideas, conversations, and opportunities. When you’re interested, you’re never boring. And when you’re interesting, the world can’t help but pay attention.

25. Read Story Books.

There’s this notion among the self-proclaimed intellectuals that stories, escapism, and fantasy are somehow lesser—an indulgence, a waste of mental capacity, not worthy of serious consideration. They couldn’t be more wrong. The power of storybooks, of diving into fictional worlds, is unmatched. It’s not just about entertainment; it’s about expanding your mind, opening yourself up to possibilities, and understanding the human condition in ways that dry, factual texts simply can’t offer.

We’re obsessed with non-fiction these days, with self-help guides, business books, and “how-tos” that promise to make us smarter, richer, or more efficient. But where’s the wonder in that? Where’s the soul? Storybooks, on the other hand, are where the real magic happens. They transport us to other worlds, allow us to live a thousand lives, and see through countless eyes. They’re the fuel for creativity, empathy, and imagination.

Stories aren’t just for kids. They’re for anyone who wants to think deeper, dream bigger, and feel more. When you read fiction, you’re not just escaping reality; you’re enriching it. You’re learning to see the world from new angles, to empathise with characters wildly different from yourself, and to let your mind wander down paths it wouldn’t otherwise tread.

Some of the most profound insights into strategy, human behavior, and culture have come to me not from business books, but from novels, myths, and fairytales. These stories teach us about conflict, resolution, ambition, love, loss, and everything in between. They’re not just entertainment—they’re life lessons wrapped in narrative.

So, let the pseudo-intellectuals have their non-fiction addiction. Let them scoff at escapism and fantasy. Meanwhile, you and I will be diving into the pages of a great novel, exploring worlds unknown, and coming out the other side with minds stretched, hearts fuller, and spirits a little more alive.

26. Keep A ‘Thoughts And Things’ Doc.

I have a habit—a ritual, really—that I’ve come to rely on: my “Thoughts and Things” doc. It’s a living, breathing Google Doc that I lovingly refer to as "Zoe's Other Brain." It’s where I stash all the half-formed thoughts, random ideas, quotes that hit me sideways, and those fleeting flashes of inspiration that feel important, even if I’m not quite sure why. It’s my personal repository of inspiration, a place where I collect the dots before I’m ready to connect them.

Imagine it like the memory spell from Harry Potter—you know, where they place the tip of their wand to their temple and slowly pull away a long, silver strand of thought, storing it safely in a Pensieve. That’s exactly what I do with my ideas. When something sparks, I pull it out of my mind and place it in the doc for safe keeping. It’s a way to capture those sparks without forcing them into something bigger before they’re ready.

Over time, I revisit this doc. Sometimes, a sentence I scribbled down months ago has grown into something more—a springboard for a new idea, a concept that’s finally found its shape. Other times, I discover that new tidbits I’ve found since can add more depth or clarity to an old thought, like pieces of a puzzle clicking together.

Keeping a “Thoughts and Things” doc is like curating your own personal think tank. It’s how I track my bigger ideas, building on them quietly but powerfully as I go. There’s no pressure to have everything figured out at once. Instead, it’s about creating a space where your mind can play, where ideas can marinate and evolve at their own pace.

So, start your own doc. Call it whatever you want—your other brain, your idea vault, your creative cauldron. Write down those half-formed thoughts, those flashes of inspiration, and those random quotes that speak to you. Let them sit, let them grow, and come back to them when you’re ready to see what they’ve become. Because some of the best ideas aren’t born fully formed—they’re nurtured, piece by piece, until they’re ready to take on a life of their own.

Relationships and Social Connections

I’ve struggled with relationships for so long. I used to think that to love someone meant losing myself—shaping who I was to fit someone else’s wishes and whims. I spent years in a dance of self-abandonment, chasing external validation, and bending over backward to be what I thought others wanted. What a waste.

It’s only recently that I’ve come to understand that real relationships aren’t about sacrificing who you are; they’re about finding a balance between your identity and the connection you share with someone else. They’re challenging because they require compromise, mutual value, and the courage to chart uncomfortable paths together. They’re lessons, mirrors, deep joys, and sometimes, painful revelations. They force you to confront parts of yourself you might prefer to ignore, but they also bring out the best in you when done right.

For me, relationships are everything. I thrive on connection—on the deep, meaningful exchanges that make life richer and more vibrant. But I’ve learned the hard way that not all connections are meant to last, and that’s okay. Some people are here for a season, to teach us something, to push us in a new direction, or to simply share a moment in time.

What matters is the building and nurturing of the relationships that are meaningful, about finding your tribe, and knowing when to let go. It’s about the art of connection—how to show up for others, how to stand up for yourself, and how to create a network of support that carries you through life’s ups and downs. Because at the end of the day, it’s the ties that bind us that make it all worthwhile.

27. Find Your Tribe.

I’ve always been a collector of people—the interesting, the different, the wildly impressive, the deeply empathetic. Piece by piece, I’ve built my tribe around me, a network of extraordinary individuals, mostly incredible women from all corners of the world. This tribe is my lifeline—my support system, my hype team, my sounding board. They lift me up, they stretch me, and they challenge me to grow in ways I never imagined.

But here’s the thing: building a tribe takes work. It’s about more than just finding the right people—it’s about maintaining those connections, supporting each other, and investing in mutual success. When I had just turned 30, I joined a week-long experiment where 12 UK female entrepreneurs were placed in a New York brownstone to see if we could crack the market in our respective fields. We didn’t really know each other, but we were all highly ambitious, super smart, and kick ass. People were expecting a disaster—catfights, backstabbing, the works. Instead, something incredible happened.

On night one, we joined forces. We pooled our connections, helped each other find new contacts, and set up fruitful meetings. Each day, we met for lunches, coffees, and pep talks between pitches, offering support, listening, and exchanging ideas. We even threw a massive cocktail party at the brownstone, splitting into organising groups to get shit done—I ended up in a cash-n-carry in Queens, buying vats of olives and 300 martini glasses, having rented a van to haul it all back in time. Our last nights together were spent group bowling, dancing at an ’80s rave, and hitting the shops hard. It was an absolute blast.

Ten years on, those women are still some of my closest friends and confidantes. They taught me so much, especially about the power of finding your tribe and investing in it for everyone’s mutual success.

Your tribe isn’t just a social circle; it’s one of the most valuable resources you’ll ever have, both personally and professionally. It’s the group that will push you to dream bigger, do better, and reach higher. So, invest in it well. Collect your people, piece by piece. Build a network that not only supports you but also challenges you, inspires you, and elevates you. Because with a tribe like that, there’s no limit to what you can achieve together.

28. Look For Reciprocity.

One of the toughest lessons I’ve learned is the importance of reciprocity—investing in people who genuinely want to invest in you. It’s so easy to fall into the trap of trying to prove yourself to those who aren’t interested, banging your head against a brick wall, hoping for approval that never comes. But trust me, that’s a losing game.

At my last agency, I worked for a man who could only be described as a malignant narcissist. He had this twisted knack for giving just enough praise to keep you hooked, desperate for his validation. But most of the time, he was relentless with his insults. He told me I was stupid, that I should never have been a strategist, that if I’d come along during his tenure, he would never have hired me. He reduced me to a deck monkey—tweaking his words, adjusting his slides—never allowing me to contribute my own ideas. He had zero interest in teaching me, cultivating my talent, or even letting me speak.

Yet, I kept trying to win his approval. I got stuck in his toxic orbit, hating him and hating myself for wanting his praise, but feeling utterly trapped. Until one day, I’d had enough. I told him to go fuck himself and walked out, never to return.

It took months of therapy to rebuild my confidence and rediscover my spark, but eventually, I realised I’d been pouring my energy into a black hole. That’s what happens when you give everything to someone who gives nothing back—it’s damaging, it’s diminishing, and it’s soul-crushing. And it wasn’t just him—I had a pattern of doing the same thing in romantic relationships, too. Always trying to prove my worth to people who didn’t see it, who didn’t care.

Finally, I woke up. I realised that if respect and reciprocity aren’t being served, then it’s time to get up from the table. You can’t build a partnership on your own. It takes two—equal effort, equal discomfort, equal investment. Reciprocity in both your personal and professional life is absolutely critical.

Surround yourself with people who see your value, who meet you halfway, and who are as committed to your growth as you are to theirs. Because you deserve relationships—whether in work or in love—that are built on mutual respect, shared effort, and a genuine commitment to each other’s success.

29. Some Friendships And Connections Have A Sell-By-Date.

Here’s a truth that took me far too long to accept: some friendships and connections come with a sell-by date. They’re not meant to last forever, and that’s okay. We’re conditioned to think that every relationship we form should be lifelong, that if it fades or ends, it’s a failure. But that’s just not how life works.

People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. And recognizing which is which can save you a lot of heartache. Some friendships are intense and meaningful, but they’re not built to go the distance. They serve a purpose—maybe they’re there to help you through a tough time, to teach you something about yourself, or to push you in a new direction. But once that purpose is fulfilled, it’s okay to let them go.

I’ve had friendships that burned bright and fast, like a firework. They were incredible while they lasted, full of shared experiences, deep conversations, and endless laughter. But then, almost imperceptibly, they started to fade. Maybe we grew in different directions, maybe the circumstances that brought us together no longer existed, or maybe we just changed. Whatever the reason, the connection wasn’t the same, and hanging on to it out of obligation or nostalgia only made it harder.

So, if you find yourself holding on to a friendship or connection that no longer feels right, give yourself permission to let it go. It’s not about cutting people off; it’s about recognising when something has run its course.

People change, circumstances change, and that’s okay. Appreciate the role they played in your life, be grateful for the good times, and then release them with grace. Because when you let go of what no longer serves you, you open up space for connections that will.

30. Be Generous With Your Time.

Time is precious, but that doesn’t mean you should hoard it. When someone asks for your time—even if it seems like they can’t offer you anything in return, or if it feels like a one-way street—pause for a moment. Can you help? Can you offer guidance, a shoulder, a piece of advice? If so, maybe you should.

I’ve found myself in these situations more times than I can count, and honestly, I relish them. If I can help, I will. Because I’ve been on the other side, needing someone to give me their time, their attention, their wisdom—without expecting anything in return. And the truth is, the world needs more of that.

There’s this misconception that time is only valuable if you’re getting something tangible back. But being generous with your time isn’t about immediate returns; it’s about the impact you make on someone else’s life. Whether it’s a quick coffee, a late-night phone call, or a thoughtful email, your time and energy can mean everything to someone who’s struggling, searching, or just needs a bit of guidance.

And here’s the thing: it does come back to you. Maybe not from the same person, maybe not in the same way, but the karma of being generous with your time is real. The more you give, the more you’ll find doors opening, opportunities arising, and support showing up when you least expect it. People remember who was there for them when they needed it most, and they’ll return the favour in ways you never imagined.

So, the next time someone reaches out, don’t be quick to brush them off. Give them your headspace, your energy, your attention. It might seem like a small thing to you, but it could mean so much to them. In a time that often feels rushed and disconnected, these moments of generosity are what build bridges, foster connections, and keep us all moving forward together.

31. Stand Up For Yourself And Others.

There comes a time when you have to decide whether to stay quiet or to stand up—whether to protect your peace or to put your head above the parapet and risk the fallout. I’ve always believed in the latter. Standing up for yourself is non-negotiable, but standing up for others, especially when they can’t do it for themselves, is where real courage comes in.

I learned this the hard way, both in my own career and in the industry at large. When I wrote Mad Men, Furious Women, I wasn’t just shining a spotlight on my own experiences; I was pulling back the curtain on an industry-wide culture of abuse, misogyny, and toxic behaviour. It wasn’t easy—putting yourself out there never is. The backlash was swift, and the fallout was real. But the conversations that piece sparked were worth every moment of discomfort.

Standing up for yourself isn’t about being the loudest voice in the room; it’s about being the voice that won’t be silenced. It’s about knowing your worth, refusing to be diminished, and insisting on the respect you deserve. But it’s also about using your voice to amplify others—those who might not have the platform, the privilege, or the power to speak up. It’s about creating space for the right conversations, even when they’re uncomfortable, even when they ruffle feathers.

In this industry, and in life, you’ll come across people who want to shut you down, keep you quiet, and make you feel small. They’ll try to convince you that your voice doesn’t matter, that your experiences aren’t valid, that you’re better off staying silent. Don’t let them. Stand up, not just for yourself, but for those who can’t. Because when you do, you’re not just defending your own dignity—you’re paving the way for others to do the same.

And trust me, there’s power in that. There’s power in being the person who says enough when everyone else is too scared to speak. There’s power in standing up for what’s right, even when it’s not easy, even when it comes with risks. Because when you stand up for yourself and others, you’re not just making a statement—you’re making a difference.

32. It’s Ok To Walk Away.

There’s a power in walking away—a power that took me years to understand and embrace. I’ve walked away from agencies and bosses who were cruel, who tried to crush me, who wanted to keep me small. And each time, I was plagued with doubt: How will I ever work again? Should I just suck it up? Am I making the biggest mistake of my career? But here’s the hard truth I’ve learned: no job title, no agency name, no amount of so-called prestige is worth your misery.

I used to be attached to the allure of big names and the shiny labels that came with them. But over time, I realised that those things were hollow, empty of real value. What I’ve gained by walking away is far more meaningful: self-confidence, control over my own path, and a credibility that’s built on my terms. Walking away wasn’t easy—uncertainty never is. But staying in a place that diminishes you, that chips away at your spirit, that makes you question your value? That’s far more dangerous.

There’s this insidious narrative that says you have to stick it out, that walking away is a sign of weakness or failure. It’s complete bullshit. Walking away is strength. It’s the ultimate act of self-respect, a declaration that you know your worth and won’t settle for anything less. It’s reclaiming your power, your dignity, and your future.

I’ve left jobs where bosses belittled me, where the culture was toxic, where I felt like I was shrinking with every passing day. I’ve walked out, not knowing what was next, with that familiar knot of fear in my stomach. But every time, without fail, I’ve found something better on the other side. And more importantly, I’ve found a stronger, more resilient version of myself.

So if you’re in a situation that’s crushing you, remember this: it’s okay to walk away. It’s okay to step into the unknown, trusting that you’ll land on your feet. It’s okay to prioritise your well-being over the superficial prestige of a big-name agency or a flashy title. Because at the end of the day, no brand, no position, is worth sacrificing your peace, your confidence, your joy. Sometimes, the only way to find them is by walking away—and that’s where your true strength lies.

6. Leadership and Influence

Leadership isn’t about titles, corner offices, or being the loudest voice in the room. It’s about the quiet strength to stand up for what you believe in, the courage to influence others with integrity, and the wisdom to know when to lead and when to listen. But here’s the thing: I didn’t always get that.

For years, I thought leadership meant conforming to someone else’s idea of power—being assertive, but not too assertive; confident, but not too confident. I felt like I had to follow a script that wasn’t written for me, and in trying to do so, I muted my own voice. I was so busy trying to be the leader I thought I should be that I forgot to be the leader I could be.

It took time, and a lot of missteps, to realise that real leadership isn’t about following a script; it’s about rewriting it. It’s about using your voice, your influence, and your unique perspective to inspire and empower others. Leadership is about lifting as you climb, about making space for others to rise alongside you, and about knowing that true influence comes from authenticity, not authority.

33. Be A Change Agent.

There’s a certain thrill in being a change agent—someone who doesn’t just go with the flow but who actively disrupts it. It’s not about being a rebel for the sake of rebellion; it’s about seeing where things are broken, where the status quo falls short, and having the guts to stand up and say, “This isn’t good enough.”

I’ve always felt this pull—to push against the boundaries, to challenge the norms, to refuse to accept things as they are simply because that’s how they’ve always been. But being a change agent isn’t just about making noise; it’s about creating meaningful, lasting impact. It’s about being willing to take the hits, and to keep pushing forward because you know that something better is possible.

I’ve taken that stance more than once, in the countless meetings and projects where I’ve challenged the “way things are done.” It’s not easy. You’ll meet resistance and there will be days when you wonder if it’s worth it. But if you’re not willing to push for change, who will?

Change agents aren’t just leaders—they’re catalysts. They’re the ones who spark the ideas, the conversations, the movements that shift the ground beneath our feet. They’re the ones who see the potential for something more and refuse to rest until it’s realised. And yes, it can be exhausting, it can be frustrating, and it can be lonely at times. But the impact? The impact is worth everything.

So, be a change agent. Don’t just accept things as they are—challenge them, reshape them, make them better. Whether it’s in your industry, your community, or your own life, be the one who dares to push for what could be, rather than settling for what is. Because real change doesn’t happen by accident—it happens because someone like you decided to make it happen.

34. Collaboration > Competition.

Women are often conditioned to believe there’s only one slice of the pie—one seat at the table, one chance to shine. We’re taught that if one woman succeeds, it somehow diminishes the opportunities for the rest of us. This scarcity mindset breeds the infamous rope ladder effect, where those who climb to the top pull the ladder up behind them, fearing that another woman’s success might knock them off their perch.

We’ve all felt it—that twinge of jealousy when another woman wins, as if her victory is a mark against our own potential. But this zero-sum thinking is how we all lose. Competing against each other only reinforces the very barriers we’re trying to break down. It’s a game rigged against us, and by playing it, we all fail.

But collaboration over competition is how we all rise. When we support each other, even when it means sharing opportunities or stepping back to make space, we lift all ships. I’ve seen it in action, and the results are transformative. When I’ve chosen to help another woman—sharing a contact, offering advice, or amplifying her voice—the success that followed wasn’t just hers, or mine—it was ours - a collective triumph that expands the pie rather than fighting over crumbs.

I’ve been privileged to work alongside some extraordinary women, and what stands out isn’t just their individual brilliance but their willingness to collaborate instead of compete. They’ve shown me that lifting each other up doesn’t dilute our own success—it multiplies it. By joining forces, we create more opportunities, more success, and more room for everyone to flourish.

So, let’s change the narrative. Let’s challenge the notion that there’s only one seat at the table and start building bigger tables. Let’s pull each other up, not tear each other down.

The next time you see another woman shining, don’t view it as a threat. See it as proof that there’s plenty of light for all of us.

35. Lift As You Climb

Success isn’t a solo pursuit. It’s easy to get caught up in the idea that climbing the ranks, unlocking funding, or getting ahead is something you do on your own—an individual race to the top. But the truth is, the higher you climb, the more important it becomes to reach back and bring others with you. Because real success isn’t just about how high you can go—it’s about how many people you can lift along the way.

I’ve always believed that as you rise, you have a responsibility to open doors for others, to share the knowledge, connections, and opportunities that helped you get where you are. It’s not just about paying it forward; it’s about recognising that your success is deeply interconnected with the success of others. When you lift others as you climb, you create a network of support, innovation, and growth that benefits everyone.

In my own journey, I’ve been fortunate to have people who saw potential in me, who offered guidance, who gave me a hand up when I needed it. And I know that I didn’t get here on my own—I’m standing on the shoulders of those who came before me, and it’s my responsibility to do the same for others.

Lifting others as you climb isn’t just the right thing to do—it’s also how you build a legacy. When you make it a point to elevate others, you’re not just creating opportunities for them; you’re creating a ripple effect that can transform industries, communities, and lives. You’re building something bigger than yourself—a collective success story that everyone can be a part of. And when we rise together, the view from the top is that much sweeter.

36. Build Your Alumni Network.

One of the most valuable assets you can cultivate in your career isn’t just your skills or your resume—it’s your alumni network. The people you’ve worked with over the years, those who’ve seen you in the trenches, who’ve grown up with you professionally, are often your biggest allies when you’re out on your own. These relationships are gold, and they’re worth nurturing long after you’ve moved on to new adventures.

I’m still in touch with ex-colleagues from my days at The Population, Naked Communications, Universal McCann, Droga5 and my very first agency, Quantum BLM. We’ve all gone on to different things—new companies, new roles, even new industries—but those connections have stood the test of time. We still help each other out, share projects, and offer support whenever it’s needed. It’s like having a professional family, a network of people who not only know your strengths but also your quirks, your weird habits, your rough edges. They’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and they still have your back.

These are the people who can open doors for you, offer advice when you’re stuck, and provide opportunities that you might not even see coming. They’re also the ones who will be honest with you, who will tell you when you’re being brilliant and when you’re being an idiot, and that kind of feedback is invaluable.

When you’re out on your own, whether you’re freelancing, starting your own business, or just navigating the next step in your career, your alumni network can be your lifeline. They’re the ones who understand the industry landscape, who can connect you with the right people, and who genuinely want to see you succeed. They’re also a reminder that you’re never really on your own—you’ve got a whole crew of people who’ve been in the trenches with you, ready to jump in whenever you need them.

But building and maintaining your alumni network takes effort. It’s about more than just keeping up on LinkedIn. It’s about reaching out, checking in, offering help when you can, and not just when you need something. It’s about keeping those relationships alive and thriving, so that when the time comes, you’re not just a distant memory but an active part of each other’s professional lives.

So, invest in your alumni network. Stay connected with the people who’ve been part of your journey. They’re more than just colleagues from your past—they’re the ones who can help shape your future.

37. Become A Connector.

We often keep our connections close to our chests, guarding them like precious resources, believing that by holding onto them, we’re preserving their value. But here’s the irony: by doing that, we’re actually diminishing their value. Networks don’t thrive in isolation; they come alive when the number of connections—the nodes within them—increases. 

I’ve made it a point in my career to be a connector. When I see two people I know who could benefit from knowing each other, I make the introduction. I do it not because there’s something in it for me, but because I believe in the power of mutual gain. From those connections, work materialises, job opportunities arise, partnerships form, and sometimes even lifelong friendships are born. And the beauty of it? Those people often remember who brought them together.

Being a connector isn’t just about playing matchmaker; it’s about creating value that multiplies. When you facilitate connections, you’re not just helping others—you’re expanding your own network’s reach, influence, and potential. You’re turning a single thread into a web, a web that has the power to support, uplift, and drive success on a much larger scale.

So, don’t hold your connections too tightly. Because the truth is, when you become a connector, you’re not just facilitating relationships—you’re building a network that’s more dynamic, more resilient, and far more valuable. And in the end, that’s where the real power lies.

7. Life's Beauty and Joy

In the rush of life, it’s easy to get swept up in the grind—the endless to-do lists, the relentless pressures, the goals that always seem just out of reach. But somewhere along the way, I’ve discovered that life’s true beauty doesn’t lie in grand achievements or perfectly curated moments. It’s in the small, fleeting joys that we often overlook.

My cottage has become my sanctuary, a fairytale space I created for myself and now for my family. It’s where I’ve learned to truly embrace life’s beauty. The views from my window, the stillness that wraps around us, and my newfound love of gardening—all of it fills me with a peace and contentment I never knew I needed. There’s something magical about naming each farm animal with my daughter on our local walks, about the seemingly trivial everyday moments that now bring me so much joy.

But joy isn’t something you stumble upon—it’s something you cultivate. It’s a choice, a practice, a way of seeing the world that allows you to find magic in the mundane. The more you slow down, the more you notice. And the more you notice, the more you appreciate the everyday wonders that make life so damn beautiful.

38. Write Cards Properly.

There’s nothing I hate more than lazy cards. You know the ones—"Dear Zoe, Happy Birthday. Love, Dave." I mean, what’s the point? Cards are meant to be mementos, little notes filled with meaning—expressions of well wishes, support, celebration, or commiseration. The person on the receiving end deserves that effort.

A card is more than just a formality; it’s a chance to connect, to remind someone that they’re seen, valued, and appreciated. It’s an opportunity to go beyond the mundane, to say something that matters. Whether it’s for a birthday, a thank you, or just a moment when someone needs a bit of extra love, those words on paper carry weight. They linger long after the moment has passed, tucked away in drawers or pinned to corkboards, a tangible reminder that someone took the time to care.

The same goes for books—something I’ve only recently come to appreciate, thanks to my partner. Whenever he gifts a book, he always writes a note in the inside cover, making it personal and meaningful. It turns a simple gift into something more—a keepsake, a piece of shared history, a reflection of thoughtfulness that makes the gesture even more special.

These small tokens of effort go a long way. They make people smile, make them feel less alone, and remind them that they’re truly valued. In a world where everything is becoming more digitised and impersonal, a handwritten card or a thoughtful note in a book stands out. It’s a small but powerful way to show that you care.

So, make the effort. Don’t just scribble a quick line and sign your name. Take a moment to think about what you want to say and how you want to make the other person feel. Write something that matters, something that lasts. Because those words—your words—can be a bright spot in someone’s day, a little piece of you that they’ll treasure long after the card is put away.

39. Buy Yourself Flowers And Pretty Things.

There’s a certain magic in surrounding yourself with beauty, in filling your space with things that make you smile and breathe a little easier. Audrey Hepburn captured it perfectly: "It's the flowers you choose, the music you play, the smile you have waiting. I want it to be gay and cheerful, a haven in this troubled world." And Claude Monet said it best with, “I must have flowers, always, and always.” These aren’t just whims—they’re reminders of the importance of creating an environment that inspires and uplifts us.

I always have fresh flowers in my home, ideally from my cutting garden in spring and summer. There’s something deeply satisfying about snipping a bloom and bringing it inside, placing it in a vase where it can brighten up the whole room. But it’s not just flowers. I surround myself with small objects that make me smile, with scented candles that fill the air with happiness or the essence of the season. These are my small, everyday luxuries—the little pleasures that make life feel richer, more textured.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of saving things for special occasions—the fancy bath salts, the Diptyque mini, the good china. But why wait? Life is happening now, and it deserves to be celebrated with the things that bring you joy. Burn the candle, use the bath salts, wear the nice perfume. Surround yourself with beauty, not because you’re indulging, but because you’re honouring the space you live in and the life you’re living.

These small gestures—a vase of flowers, a pretty object on the shelf, a candle flickering in the evening—are more than just decoration. They’re acts of self-love, of creating a haven in this chaotic world. They remind you that it’s okay to pause, to enjoy, to treat yourself.

So buy yourself flowers and pretty things. Don’t wait for someone else to do it for you. Fill your space with beauty, and let it be a daily reminder that you deserve joy, comfort, and a little bit of luxury in your life. Because when you surround yourself with the things that inspire you, you’re not just decorating—you’re creating a life that feels as good as it looks.

40. Let Yourself Be Loved.

Oh, how I’ve struggled with this one. Through my 20s and most of my 30s, I thought love was something I had to earn, a constant proving of my worth. I was all about giving and giving, rarely receiving, bending over backwards, tying myself in knots to be everything for everyone. I’d act out love without really feeling it, worrying that if I made any kind of demand, I’d be left high and dry. So, I became the cool girl, the homemaker, the date planner, the romantic one. Meanwhile, I was lucky if I got the odd bunch of flowers in return.

Then I met my husband-to-be, and everything shifted. By that point, I’d already started to change. I’d built my business, created my home, and finally saw my own value, my capability, and the life I wanted. And then he came along. For the first time, someone gave back. He added to my life. He wanted to put in the effort. And, honestly, it made me wildly uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to do with myself or how to react. I pushed him away, pulled him back in—it was like I was making him dance the hokey pokey just to be with me.

But then, something clicked. I realised I could ask for what I wanted and needed, and he could do the same. And we could meet in the middle. That was love—not a performance, not a one-sided giving without receiving, but being truly myself and that being enough for someone else. It was about allowing someone to really see me, to care for me, to put in the effort—and learning to accept that I deserved it.

Learning to be loved has been, and likely always will be, a lifelong journey for me. I didn’t grow up seeing it modelled, so I’ve had to learn from scratch. But I’ve got a wonderful teacher in my partner, someone who shows me every day that love isn’t about proving anything—it’s about being, and being enough.

So, let yourself be loved. It’s not easy, especially if you’re used to being the one who always gives without expecting much in return. But love isn’t about keeping score or earning points. It’s about two people meeting in the middle, showing up for each other, and finding comfort in the fact that who you are is just wonderful. When you finally let yourself be loved, you’ll discover it’s not just a gift from someone else—it’s the greatest gift you can give yourself.

………………………

So here we are—forty pieces of wisdom gathered from four decades of life, love, heartbreak, triumph, and everything in between. As I sit back and reflect on these lessons, I can’t help but feel a mix of gratitude, pride, and a bit of disbelief at the journey so far.

Turning 40 isn’t just about ticking off another year; it’s about recognising the tapestry of experiences that have shaped who I am today. It’s about acknowledging the struggles, the breakthroughs, the late-night epiphanies, and the hard-won truths that have guided me here. These aren’t just nuggets of wisdom—they’re pieces of me, stitched together with laughter, tears, and a fair amount of swearing.

What I’ve come to realise is that life is beautifully messy, unpredictably wonderful, and endlessly surprising. And while I don’t have all the answers (far from it), I do know this: we’re all just figuring it out as we go, one lesson at a time. The key is to stay curious, to keep pushing, to lift others as you climb, and to never be afraid to walk away when something no longer serves you.

I’ve learned that love is something you both give and allow yourself to receive, that collaboration always trumps competition, and that the smallest joys—like fresh flowers or a handwritten card—can carry the most profound meaning. I’ve learned that success is sweeter when shared, that your tribe is your lifeline, and that standing up for yourself and others is a non-negotiable.

But perhaps the most important lesson of all? Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful. It’s in the imperfections, the detours, the unexpected twists that we find the magic. So, here’s to the next decade of living, learning, and growing. I can’t wait to see what other wisdom is waiting just around the corner.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the best is yet to come.

Cheers to 40, and to the wild, wonderful ride ahead.