The Things I'm Reclaiming

Kia ora koutou e hoa mā.   Hello my friends.

There’s a word that keeps circling around me lately.

Reclaiming.

Not reinventing.
Not fixing.
Not becoming someone else.

Reclaiming.

Reclaiming parts of myself that got buried under decades of responsibility, performance, expectations, grief, pressure, survival, professionalism, practicality… all the things adulthood quietly layers onto women over time.

Somewhere along the way, many of us became highly functional versions of ourselves.
Capable.
Reliable.
Efficient.

But not always fully expressed.

I think that’s part of why creativity matters so much to me now.

I’ve always had an artist inside me.
Most of my professional life, I’ve achieved intangible things.
Meetings. Strategy. Performance. Outcomes.
Now creating things reconnects me to instinct.
To texture.  Colour.  Energy.  Emotion.
To myself.

I’ve been taking ownership of myself and who I want to be.
I’ve been noticing more things around me that are not done either.
Too quick to call the Use-by date when we’re far from expiring.

The gold dress.
The painted bags.
The tattoos.
The boots with the dresses.
The decision to stop hiding in beige.
The choice to let silver hair exist exactly as it is.

None of it is random.

It’s all reclamation.

Not replacing old with new.
Granting relevance as I define it.
Releasing the potential still waiting.

Something deep and primitive within us all.

Presence.
Choice.
Visibility.

A return to self.

That’s what this season of life is really offering:
The chance to uncover more layers to ourselves.
Permission to bloom where we stand - without apology.

Not quieter.
Not smaller.
Not invisible.

Just… us.

On our own terms.

Ngā mihi (thanks),
Pauline