Have you succumbed to the #Decadelookback?

As social media users last week began comparing pictures from the beginning and end of this decade, Kat Brown tells us why it’s a great idea

AS THE SUMMER’S

2009

Faceapp obsession (where we aged and babyfied ourselves with glee) showed, many of us otherwise sensible people turn into excited, gargling messes whenever a photo meme rocks up. And the latest craze – posting pictures of you at the beginning of the decade vs now at the end – is absolutely no exception. 2019

Sign me up and admire my photographs!

Still, for me, this lookback phenomenon has proved kinder than other viral trends. For one thing, at 37, pictures from 2009 are less horrifying than when I was a teen (camera flashes were cruel in 1999). But this challenge also reminds us what has made us the women we are today. Ten years, while a long time, connects you with a recognisable self. Your work in progress, 2009 edition, connects to the 2019 version: not childhood dreams of what being an adult might be like – and that’s why this meme is affecting.

On my part, I spent a lot of this past decade trying to morph myself into some mythical form of perfection, and it was utterly exhausting. I took part in the Olympics Opening Ceremony, ran the London Marathon, and tried to find ‘The One’ by willing myself into dodgy longterm relationships like other people force themselves into shoes half a size too small. I was constantly trying to adjust myself to someone else’s narrative.

When I was a kid dreaming of London, I imagined that adult life would be a constant thrill of delights. In fact, the wins have come slowly, and hard-earned. I’ve thrice lost my job from titles closing or being reappraised (journalism! The inspiring career choice!). The children I hoped for with my beloved husband became an uncertain dream after twicefailed IVF. Friends Ben and Andrea, and my aunt Tina, died decades before they should have. My mental health has been a cocktail shaker of fun. And I feel ashamed at not having a close relationship with my family.

But my god, the wider picture is better than I could ever have hoped for. I’ve reconnected with my childhood hobbies of writing fiction, singing in choirs, and horse-riding. I married a wonderful man whom I first met when I was 17. And crucially, I’ve had a f*** ton of therapy. I have lived as bravely and joyfully as I could. I have given up alcohol, acknowledging that it absolutely does not suit me. Doctors diagnosed me with binge eating disorder after 25 years of disordered eating, and I had free treatment on the NHS, unpicking the knots in my head. I met a score of wonderful women through the Jilly Cooper Book Club that my friend Isobel suggested we start. And while my family may not be the idyllic set-up I so often read about in my childhood, my husband and I (and our cat) are the tightest crew imaginable.

I think, too, that scales are falling from my eyes. Even in my twenties I thought that if I worked hard enough, showed up enough, polished myself enough, that everything would fall into place and I would get a big ‘tick!’ from life. What this meme shows is that all of us are doing the best that we can, and as long as we keep doing so with determination, kindness and good people around us, that’s what will give us another 10 years we can be proud of.

With Brexit, Trump and the forthcoming election so uncertain, this meme lets us reach for something tangible: ourselves, our dreams, and our hopes. (And bloody hell – did I mention that I met Jilly Cooper?)