I fell out with, and got back into, the church, and my relationship with God, thanks to wonderful friends like P and M and R and many more.
I gave up smoking.
I managed to stop being addicted to caffeine.
I adjusted my attitude to a lot of things. I’d say my morals were stricter now but also that that’s a very good thing.
I finally stopped being disproportionately upset by and obsessing over my physical appearance. I’m not Britain’s Next Top Model but I’m pretty lucky as these things go.
If you’d told me last year that by this time I would be willing to get up twice a week to go to yoga at seven thirty in the morning I would have laughed in your face.
I ate a lot of lentils.
I learned to stand up for and respect myself, partly because I met a lot of people who were prepared to respect and stand up for me in a way that I hadn’t really seen before and hadn’t allowed to happen either.
My once militantly outer feminist gradually shut up a lot and turned into my inner feminist, who is a lazy cow, but probably to the best. She’ll still come out, claws out, when there is genuine reason for it, rather than just because she feels like thumping the table a bit. And good job too.
I didn’t do anything like enough music.
I didn’t get out into the countryside as much as I would have liked.
I didn’t read enough.
I was very rarely on time.
I very nearly missed a lot of trains.
I grew up one hell of a lot.