I turned 36 last month.

I was surrounded by so much love and support on my special day. As with birthdays comes reflection.

It had me reflecting on the life I thought I would be leading at this age.

As a child, life felt effervescent and bursting at the seams with opportunity. I seriously thought I could be anything. And in some ways, I still do.

The difference is that when I was a little girl, I was told to dream big dreams. My world wasn’t tainted by the realities of life. Then, of course, reality sinks in.

I began to see my shiny, sparkly world begin to disintegrate and dull. I started to notice that I was judged by my appearance. Judged for my personality, my upbringing and beliefs.

It all became too apparent to me. I mourn the bright-eyed and bushy tailed enthusiasm of that little girl.

I have maintained pieces of her as I have grown. I have looked to her for courage whenever pursuing something new in my life. I have held onto her dreams when all around me felt dark.

My 35th year was strange. I had lost many pieces of that little girl. I lost a sense of me and of who I knew myself to be. At times, I couldn’t look myself in the mirror. I didn’t feel beautiful. I couldn’t see myself anymore.

I mourned the loss of many ideologies I had of myself. I mourned the loss of who I thought I was supposed to become. And had to reconfigure the foundations of my very being.

The more time I have spent in this world, the more of me I have felt I had to apologise for.

My skin tone.

My nationality.

My gender.

My complexion.

My ideologies.

When you spend so many years in spaces and places where you cannot see yourself or you are not celebrated, inevitably, there is some damage done to our inner self. Coming to this realisation hit home and made me seek comfort in myself. Of course life feels heavy when you feel burdened by your identity.

I have found myself in an endless quest to make sense of all of this – I searched for meaning in my work whilst work told me I meant little to nothing.

The quest has never been easy, but the willpower is stronger – has to be stronger. To live fully in spite of limitations.

And so, as I turn the page into this new chapter, I plea for more self-acceptance and less apologising.