About five weeks ago I turned 32. I hadn't really planned on doing anything as I'm not a massive birthday person and have no one who would celebrate with me. That's the thing about constantly being alone - you don't even celebrate yourself anymore because your worth becomes wrapped up in the lack of people who see it.
However, on a whim, I decided to book tickets to visit Jane Austen's home in Chawton, Hampshire. Despite only having read one of her books all the way through, I am a huge fan of Jane. I admire her spirit and bravery to publish her work when women authors were not a 'thing'. I admire her unbreakable strength to sign her books 'By a Lady' when that was not acceptable. I just love everything about her.
My birthday morning came and I jumped in the car for what was quite an uninteresting drive to be honest, but I was entranced when I finally made it to the little village of Chawton. I parked up and there was not a whisper in the village; just quiet echos of distance traffic and the rustling of autumn foliage. It was a really chilly day and all my autumn dreams came true.
You enter Jane Austen's family home through the gift shop and wander through the gardens before entering the actual home. The garden is scattered with flowers, benches and dresses from the time period. As you enter the home, you are welcomed into the living room where she did her first ever reading of Pride and Prejudice to family and friends. To be in the room where the first every reading of this magical novel was read was just an unbelievable priviledge. Much like the living area, the rest of the house was cosy and warm and had a feeling of love and a close-knit family. The house was gifted to Jane and her sister Cassandra by their brother, Edward Knight, who lived in the sprawling Chawton Manor just down the road. He was adopted by wealthy distant relatives as they had no heirs, but he ensured his sisters were taken care of, particularly as they were unmarried, and gifted them the biggest house in the village.
Upstairs were rooms dedicated to her books and the various adaptations but, for me, the icing on the birthday cake that day was to enter Jane's bedroom. I remember just feeling so incredibly lucky to be standing in a place of history, where a woman dared to dream, dared to write and changed the world thanks to her courage and the support of her family. It truly is a life that all of us wish we had in some way - the courage to live out our dreams, no matter how imposible they seem, with a supportive network.
Downstairs was another room that I spent too much time in and waited for other people to leave so I could almost have a meditation there. The dining room. The place where Jane's little table where she wrote or revised all of her most important novels took place. The table is small but apparently Jane was a neat and private writer so the least amount of space was preferable for her. The table was by the window where she could look out into the garden and imagine the lives of Emma or the Dashwoods or dear Elizabeth Bennett.
I later spent some time in the garden and imagined that Jane would have strolled around here often. It was absolutely incredible and a day I'll never forget. After my time at the house, I stopped in across the road at Cassandra's Cup and enjoyed a latte. Everyone was sat with family and friends and I was sat alone... on my birthday. Yet, I didn't mind. I sat there reading my guide with her home as my view thinking how incredibly lucky I was to enter my 32nd year on this earth at this place with so much gratitude in my heart.
After warming up with a latte, I walked the little streets and looked at all the cute chocolate box cottages while being greeted warmly by lovely old gentlemen. I then strolled the ten minutes or so to Chawton House, the large manor where Edward Knight lived. While walking, I pictured Jane doing the same and felt such an air of familiarity to many of her unmarried middle class characters walking from humble dwellings to stately manors. Now, I didn't find my Mr Darcy here, but I did find a wealth of beautiful history, charming docents, and beautiful paintings dedicated to women of the time who pushed boundaries. I took in the views of the garden and St. Nicholas Church and strolled across th greenery like I was Elizabeth Bennett.
In that moment, I told myself that year 32 will be for me. It will be for pursuing my passions, like I did this day, even if no one else understands. It will be about understanding my worth not in the eyes of other people (I had a hard lesson regarding this just the other day!) and it will be about pursuing happiness in every form. I moved back to the UK just before I turned 30 and that was the year of discomfort. 31 was the year of growth. 32 will be the year of transformation.
Before I left Chawton, I stopped into St. Nicholas' Church graveyard and paid my respects to the two Cassandra Austens - Jane's mother and her sister. Two women who played a supporting role in the life of a woman who changed Britsh history and culture. Those supporting roles are just as important as the leading ones.
It was a stunning day and I write this with gratitide and also a little shock. I was typing this up and thought, "When is Jane's birthday? I know it's December sometime". It's today. Her birthday is today; the day I happened to feel an urge to write this. So...
Happy Birthday Jane.
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