I thought growing up meant eventually having everything figured out.

I’m Margot. And, for a long time, that is exactly what I believed.

Margot at eighteen, laughing on a street at night — EighteenAlmost grown

Margot in her twenties, on a terrace at sunset — Twenty-sevenBecoming

Margot at forty, walking through the city — FortyComing home to myself

the same woman, three times over

18years

a night I still remember, for no particular reason

At eighteen

I worried about almost everything.

Fitting in
First loves
Friendships
My body
The future

Everything felt enormous and permanent. Every friendship was forever. Every decision was the decision. I was so busy trying to become someone that I rarely noticed who I already was.

Volume oneMargot 15–20 — Almost GrownThe years I was trying to find myself.

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27years

somewhere in the middle of starting over

In my twenties

I thought everyone else had a plan.

I watched friendships change.
I stayed in places and relationships longer than I should have.
I started over more than once.

And slowly, I learned that becoming an adult doesn’t happen all at once. It happens in pieces, usually while you’re busy worrying that it isn’t happening at all.

Volume twoMargot 20–30 — BecomingThe years I thought everyone else had a plan.

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40years

not perfect. just clearer.

And somewhere in my thirties

Things became quieter.

Not perfect. Just clearer.

I stopped measuring my life against everyone else’s timeline.
I became more protective of my time.
More accepting of the person in the mirror.
More interested in building a life that actually felt like mine.

Volume threeMargot 30–40 — Coming Home to MyselfThe years life became quieter, and more honest.

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Why I started writing

There were so many feelings I remembered having, but rarely heard people talk about honestly.

The friendship you thought would last forever.
The relationship you knew wasn’t right but weren’t ready to leave.
Watching people around you get married, have children, change careers or move away, and wondering whether you were falling behind.
Looking at your parents one day and suddenly realizing they were getting older.
Missing an old version of yourself while knowing you would never truly want to become her again.

~~Advice from someone who has all the answers.~~

Those are the stories behind Margot. Just one woman looking back at the different versions of herself: what she loved, what she lost, what she misunderstood and what she eventually learned.

Why Solvitre