Is boring the new black?

The older I get, the more I embrace who I actually am.

And it’s been a long road getting here.

For most of my life, I masked.
I tried to fit in.
I tried to be someone else.

I compared myself to others and constantly felt like I was falling short.
Not fun enough. Not relaxed enough. Not “normal” enough.

And I beat myself up for it—over and over again.

Since being diagnosed with ADHD, navigating perimenopause (and strongly suspecting I’m autistic too), I’ve finally started to understand myself. And with understanding has come acceptance. And with acceptance—peace.

I know what I need now.

I need sleep—because when I don’t get enough (and let’s be honest, that’s most nights thanks to hormones), my ADHD is ten times harder to manage.
I like routine. I like going to bed early.
I don’t enjoy drinking—it makes me anxious, I overshare, and then ruminate for days.

Late nights and loud parties? They’re fun for lots of people, but I’ve stopped forcing myself to pretend I enjoy them.

I used to think that made me boring.

But now I think: maybe “boring” is the new black?

Because honestly, I love my life.

I’m not interested in keeping up with the latest fashion trends. I have no idea who celebrities are dating or what they’re wearing. And I’m OK with that.

I’m happiest in my garden, pottering about in old jeans and muddy wellies. I love spending time with my family and friends, going on long walks in the countryside, and taking regular outdoor swims near where I live. That’s where I feel most like myself.

Calm. Grounded. Content.

My life is full of the things that nourish me, not the things that drain me.
And most importantly, it feels authentic.

Learning to love who you really are takes time.
It takes self-compassion.
It takes unlearning a lifetime of “shoulds”, masking, and shame.

But it’s worth it.

So if boring means being real, at ease, and at peace—then yes.
Boring is absolutely the new black.

And honestly? That’s fine with me.