‘I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.’

The piece of writing that has consumed my mind for the last 6 months, so much so it’s practically a mantra at this point. I used to have a clear path of life set out for me – a direction that was practically set in stone. I had a boyfriend, we planned to move in together – I didn’t need to think about what I wanted for myself because I believed that my partner was all I wanted in life. 

2025 taught me a lot about myself. A year of intentionally seeking discomfort left me with a whole new life compared to the one I entered the year with. The years prior had been spent living a pretty traumatic life through a version of myself that was shell of the human I am. It was a life lived in fear. Talking to new people, trying new things, creating new opportunities – all these little aspects of everyday life terrified me. Understandably, the quality of life I had was pretty low but going into 2025 I was determined to make a change. I made a conscious choice to seek discomfort. The experiences that it brought me, the people that it introduced me, the doors that it opened and the ones that were closed were all experiences that were once unimaginable. Gradually throughout the year, I learnt more about myself, the person that I am and the things that I want. A person who isn’t a daughter, a friend, a partner – a person that is their own. 

After leaving a relationship where that person had been the sole purpose of my existence for so long – which I now know is a very unsustainable, quite unhealthy way to view a relationship, I ventured into a realm of exploring the being I had learn to know so much about. Myself. 

I like a plan – it soothes the chaos of my perfectionist brain that’s riddled with ADHD. So, after leaving a relationship I had planned my entire life around with no interest in the opportunities I could create for myself, I was met with this overwhelming decision. What does Hope geuinley want? A question I had never considered. The majority of my life has been spent living for others, prioritising their needs over mine and doing all the things that would get me validation from them. 

I had heard of this beautiful poem and metaphor of this fig tree previously, though it never resonated until the midst of existential indecision. Suddenly, I was met with all of this vibrantly purple, plump, promising figs, each one presenting as an option for the person I could become. Whilst the endless opportunities may fill others with excitement, I was left with an overwhelming dread. Deciding a life for myself was a foreign land I had never stepped foot on.

Ideas swarmed my mind, visions of the person I could be and dreams of the things that I could accomplish. 

In the Uk, you grow up in a rat race of an education system. You learn this structure of school, college, university, work – every choice made along the way affecting the entire trajectory of your life. You believe that the options you choose to study for GCSE’S determine your whole career path – no space for doubts or questions. You’re conditioned to believe that’s what life is because god forbid people think their life is more than work and earning! I eventually decided to study to become a doctor so that in turn people would actually see me as someone smart. The desire for validation fuelled this and the drive for perfectionism made me crumble. Eventually the plan I was extremely unhealthily determined to make happen was no longer an option as I became unwell and future plans vanished. Despite the devastation that time caused, there are times I give thanks for it because I would make a bloody terrible doctor. 

I didn’t go to college when I should have – I briefly attempted to. In hindsight though, I see how unrealistic it was of me to believe I could pick up where I left off in the education system a week after being discharged from a 25 month long psychiatric admission. I dropped out pretty quickly and haven’t returned to education since. I’m 20 years old, no college degree, no where near a university – but I do have a sense of gratitude that I got to decide what truly worked for me and what doesn’t, even if it was crafted from unfortunate circumstances. 

Back in August, after the breakup, I sat down and thought about the life I truly wanted. The branches loomed over me, the tree which tormented me showed the endless opportunities, the ideas of who I could be and the life I could create. Van life? A counsellor? A business owner? I remember a day at work, whilst talking to someone, spiralling over the endless options I went on a tangent saying – “the figs, there’s so many, but which fig to choose? eventually they’re all going to fall off” – safe to say I was met with a face of utter confusion. 6 months later, I sit here and those figs serve little relevance to the person I am now. New growth has made for juicer figs I’m more drawn to. 

In November, whilst away doing the cliche ‘self-discovery’ attempt of solo travel, I read the bell jar book. A complex piece of literature – though one that deeply resonated with me. I saw that this poem which felt so accurate to the phase of my life I was in was part of a much wider story – a story of overwhelming anxiety, consumed by the extensive opportunities that life has to offer and the fear of the unknown causing one to crumble at the weight of it all. And that’s what happened. It isn’t just the fig tree poem I resonate with – it’s the whole damn book. 

So many options. Instead of being filled with a sense of optimism, I was burdened with a fear of regret.

I live so much of my life in regret – guilt for things that were out of my control, but things that drastically affected my life. When it comes to making decisions, it turns into a catastrophic catastrophization of the outcome. It never seems to be a simple choice of – ‘I like this, I enjoy this and it makes me happy so that’s what I’ll do’. No, for me no matter the desire for something or how much I crave the idea of it – it needs to be thought out meticulously. Every pro and every con taken into consideration. Thoroughly thinking of all the knock on effects that this one decision can cause. Decisions deprive me of enjoyment as the endless outcomes taunt me. Alongside this, every enjoyment faces the question – is it a hyper fixation or a long lasting passion? Will it be something I can pressure, or will the interest suddenly switch off one day where the thought of it leaves me repulsed.

Logically, I know that everybody learns best from making mistakes – myself included. Through the fear, the terror of not being ‘perfect’ and the all consuming anxiety over messing up clouds over all that logic. 

Eventually all of these figs overwhelmed me and with no sense of stability and a lack of purpose, at the end of 2025 I crumbled – truthfully I’m still crumbling now. Resolving back to old habits that are despicably deceitful but ones that consumed my life for so long I’m manipulated into believing that’s all I’m made for. As fucked as it is, habits that give me a sense of self. I’m used to relying on an ‘incentive’ – something or someone to keep me afloat. The only incentive I have now is myself which isn’t a justifiable reason to my negative Nancy of a noggin. Though, I feel myself slowly and gradually returning to the being I am at my core. Recognising a power and strength that a posses and an ability to achieve good. I’m starting to see that I have worth in the world as my own being. 

Now, 6 months ago after journalling over a 1 year plan trying to build a structure for the next 365 days intertwining my aspirations within, very little of that plan is applicable. Some goals are no longer desirable, others no longer feasible but that’s okay. Like I said earlier, new growth has formed more enticing figs. I’m on a journey of learning to let go of that control that consumes my life – because no matter how much you plan, life has its own. 

Life is about learning. We’re all just as lost and confused as each other and there is no guide book to this strange experience of existence. I have lived so much of it assuming I’ll finally reach this destination where I’ll finally have it all figured out and all the tick boxes have been checked off. That list is forever growing though. I learn more about who Hope is and Hope also changes who she is – as do her desires. I know my core values and maybe I need to learn to carry them with me, instead of the heaviness of the future. Figs may rot away and fall to the ground, but it doesn’t mean the opportunity is lost forever. 

That damn fig tree.