In Shakespeare’s “As You Like It,” the Seven Ages of Man eloquently capture the inevitable progression through life’s stages, each with its distinct challenges and revelations. For me, three hats represent the stages of my journey through illness and recovery—each one a marker of where I was at that point in time. And believe me, each hat has a story.

Let’s start with the first hat. I’ll be honest, it wasn’t my favourite time. This was the hat I wore when just stepping outside was a battle. My head was constantly itching, and I had these annoying tics. It felt like every moment in public was a test of endurance. It’s a bit like Shakespeare’s “whining schoolboy” stage, where everything feels like an uphill struggle. Except, in my case, it wasn’t just metaphorical; it was a physical fight to be out there, trying to feel normal when nothing really felt normal. That hat became a bit of a security blanket during those tough times, even though I couldn’t wait to rip it off at the end of the day.

Then came the second hat. My Red Sox Hat. It is well warn and beaten up. Now, this one is special. It was my companion during those early, shaky steps of recovery. Every day, I’d put it on, lace up my shoes, and push myself to get moving again. I must have walked every track of the Botanical Gardens here in Wellington. As I share there were many times I got lost and had to be helped out. There’s something about having a routine that gives you a sense of control, especially when everything else feels like it’s spinning. This phase was all about resilience—putting one foot in front of the other, literally and figuratively. It reminds me of Shakespeare’s “soldier” stage, where determination and sheer willpower drive you forward. The road to recovery wasn’t fast, and it wasn’t easy, but that hat was with me every step of the way. It became a symbol of my progress, even when it felt like I was moving at a snail’s pace.

And then there’s the third hat—my Riversdale Beach hat. If a hat could smile, this one would be grinning from ear to ear. It represents the phase where things finally started to come together. Riversdale Beach is my happy place, where life feels light, and I can just be myself, surrounded by family and the simple joys that make life sweet. This hat isn’t just about recovery; it’s about finding joy again, about reconnecting with what truly matters. Shakespeare’s final stage of life talks about a sense of completeness, and that’s what this hat symbolises for me. It’s where all the hard work, the struggles, and the tiny victories add up to something truly meaningful.

These three hats aren’t just fashion statements—they’re milestones. They remind me that life is about accepting change and moving forward, even when it’s tough. Each hat tells a story of resilience, determination, and, ultimately, the joy that comes when you make it through to the other side.

The journey hasn’t been easy, and there were times when well-being felt like a distant dream. But looking back, I realize that every step—every hat—was a part of building that well-being. It wasn’t about one big moment of triumph but about the little, everyday victories that added up over time.

Just like the article on principal wellness I was reading the other day says, it’s crucial to prioritize self-care and well-being, especially when the world around you feels like it’s spinning out of control. We all face pressures and challenges, but it’s how we respond to them that makes the difference. For me, it was about putting on those hats, facing each day with whatever strength I could muster, and finding ways to keep moving forward.

So, whether it’s through daily walks, spending time with loved ones, or just finding that one place in the world that brings you peace—like Riversdale does for me—well-being is something you build bit by bit. It’s a journey, not a destination, and these three hats are a reminder of that.

I now emphasise the importance of seeking support and communicating with loved ones during challenging times to provide a more comprehensive perspective on the recovery journey. It is something I did not do.

Life’s going to throw challenges our way, and sometimes the path isn’t clear. But with a bit of resilience, a routine that keeps you grounded, and a place that fills your heart with joy, you can navigate those stages and come out the other side.

And who knows? Maybe you’ll find your own version of a Riversdale hat along the way.

If you want to chat or think your place needs to hear more about my hats, reach out.