I’m grateful for:
1. My loving husband, who tells me every day how much he loves me with fresh flowers and mind-blowing sex.
My loving friends, being able to buy myself flowers, and great sex with Edward when we’re not too knackered and the thermostat is set to twenty.
2. Snuggles with our own little miracle, who showed her proud grandparents that Mummy was not a forty-something fuck-up for whom time finally ran out.
Snuggles with my niece, who showed her proud Auntie Nell that loss is all part of life, that love is infinite, and that nobody knows what’s going to happen in the future but whatever it is she’ll be just fine.
3. A successful, high-flying career that provides both satisfaction and a six-figure salary, which I will spend on lovely clothes I see in magazines, and not spend hours trying to find a cheaper version on eBay.
All the lovely listeners of my podcast, Monty’s play which is opening in the West End in the summer, my role in Monty’s Mini Libraries scheme that Cricket is rolling out, and my new newspaper column. It isn’t how I used to define a high-flying career, but it’s pieces of different things that I love and give me fulfilment, and together pay my mortgage and allow me to still look for things on eBay, because seriously, who pays those crazy designer prices?
4. A Pinterest-worthy home in which to host lots of lovely grown-up dinner parties for all my friends, who are amazed by my flair for interior design and conjuring up delicious, nutritious meals, and teasingly call me the Domestic Goddess.
My little flat, in which I intend to squash all my friends for a housewarming when I finally get the keys, where they will exclaim over my clever mix of junk-shop finds and IKEA while eating takeout off their knees, because I will never be a domestic goddess and that’s why God made Deliveroo.
5. This feeling of strength and calm that comes from doing yoga in my new Lululemon outfits, and knowing I am finally where I want to be and am not going to die alone in newspaper shoes.
This feeling of strength and calm that comes from realizing you’re never really going to know what the hell you’re doing but it’s never too late to start over. Because it’s only when you are ready to surrender the life you thought you were going to live that you finally get the life you were always meant to live. * *