By the time of publication, 2018 would have been sent off with fireworks and it would be a new day in a new year. Of course, for me, New Year doesn’t really start until Lunar New Year (and we would scare it away with firecrackers and lion dances).
2018 was a roller-coaster. Physically, emotionally and psychologically. The 40s mean life changes. Perimenopause loomed (and would continue) large. I realised I wasn’t as energetic as before. I was coping a lot so much so I went back on anti-anxiety medication. Meanwhile, I had a teen growing up as well as a pre-teen. Their needs were just as important (and continue to be). By mid-year, I was already exhausted, reaching burnout. I kept pushing myself – but my body was telling me otherwise. I found myself having more self-care moments. I knitted more. I gardened more. It helped immensely. I learnt to be less harsh and more kind to self. I volunteered. I was grateful for true friends who stuck by me. You don’t need to have an entourage. You just need to have those few who really care. I lost a couple of friendships for which I was sad, but glad too. You don’t need to have friends who stab you in the back while pretending to smile warmly at you. The 40s mean that you learn about yourself and you don’t need to define your identity by the actions of others. You are you.
Writing-wise, I was doing okay. I found myself moving more into narrative and game writing. I also completed a space opera trilogy. I edited my YA fantasy under Scholastic Asia. I hope to complete Book 2, fingers crossed.
Growing older is a lesson I would learn repeatedly. And I am glad.
A Wolf's Tale 
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