A moment that changed me: I was divorced, broke and alone – but I turned my life around with a list
The silence in the flat was deafening. Having lost almost everything in my divorce, it was now just me in a basement studio flat with black mould. I had no TV, no sofa and the wifi wasn’t set up. I sat at a cheap folding table and made a list. Since my life was no longer going to be the way I had planned – marriage, kids, a dog, a late-Victorian terrace in a country town – I was going to try something else. I was going to do all the things on my “try before you’re 30” bucket list.
It was early 2014 and, having recently turned 32, I had already missed the boat, but I was determined not to let that stop me. I’d spent the past four years living in suburbia and felt as though I was prematurely middle-aged, going to garden centres at weekends and spending most of my time watching TV, tired from a long commute to my job as a communications officer. I had become set in my ways. Now I was back in London – albeit extremely broke – I was ready to try new things.
Over the following year, I threw myself into all manner of challenges. First, I enrolled on a standup comedy course – hands down the most terrifying experience of my life. Then there was laser tag, paintball, and trampolining. I studied Spanish. I travelled to Brazil on a week’s notice. I started wild swimming and ran a 10k. At a self-development course, I let a tarantula walk over my hand, which was maybe even more terrifying than the standup. Paddleboarding. Zorbing. Sailing. Riding. I tried it all.
‘Maintaining an adventurous attitude feels key to staying young at heart’ … McGowan sailing in 2022. Photograph: Courtesy of Claire McGowan
Ten years on, life is very different. I am engaged and living in a non-mouldy house in central London. I credit that year of trying new things with turning my life around. I am willing to walk away from situations and relationships that aren’t right.
In order to maintain my new mindset, I still try several new things each year. In 2023, I started singing lessons, which bring me so much joy. I also took a Cordon Bleu cookery course, which was fantastic, even if I did give myself pretty severe burns while taking a lamb rack out of the oven. For someone who hates crafts, I was quite chuffed with the pots I made in a pottery class, too.
Recently, I took a ballet class, which I enjoyed a lot, although mistakenly attending an exotic-dance class where I was the oldest by some 20 years was less fun, if amusing. By contrast, I’ve given myself permission to stop trying to get into swing dancing.
As a child I had always been physically timid, coming last in the school 600m, hiding on the sidelines during PE, and feeling terribly ashamed if I wasn’t good at a new activity (which I almost never was). I had internalised the idea that it’s only worth doing things if you can excel at them, and that it is embarrassing to be a beginner. I even remember once bringing home another child’s drawing to give to my parents, since it was better than mine.
‘I now believe that the trick is to ride out the fear’ … McGowan in 2013. Photograph: Courtesy of Claire McGowan
I still experience this shame as an adult. At a recent boxing class, on finding myself the only woman in a class of experienced, very large men, I almost cried because I felt so out of my depth. I also just went skiing for the third time in my life, a humbling experience because I’m terrified. However, my divorce taught me that good things lie on the other side of fear. Hitting rock bottom showed me I had nothing left to lose.
I now believe that the trick is to ride out the fear, or just admit to being way out of your comfort zone. Even in my work as a writer, I try to keep pushing boundaries – last year I took a playwriting course, for example. I think that we miss out by only doing things we are good at. I’ve taken tennis lessons for years with no sign of improvement, but I really like it and it’s great exercise.
If we only do things we can monetise or are already skilled at, we lose a whole world of joy. Maintaining an adventurous attitude feels key to staying young at heart, as is a willingness to fail. Next up, I’m going to try to nail a yoga handstand, which has eluded me for years.
This Could Be Us by Claire McGowan is published by Corsair (£9.99). To support the Guardian and the Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com