As some of you know, alongside my role at DS, I’m also an actor. I love the balance of my two careers and the different fulfilment each one brings. This year, though, the acting side has been quieter. I was fortunate to perform with Northern Ireland Opera over the summer, but beyond that it’s mostly been DS work, staffing, and settling into London life.

So when I was offered a Christmas pantomime a few weeks ago—my first chance in a while to be back on stage, doing what I love, during the time of year most actors hope to be working—you’d think it would be an instant yes. But it wasn’t.

To be honest, I felt torn. Having a year without touring or long-term contracts has allowed me to properly build a life in London. I finally feel settled. My calendar was full of festive plans with friends and family, and the sudden prospect of uprooting everything for six weeks in Wales felt… disruptive. For the first time, I hesitated, and that hesitation sparked some uncomfortable questions. Had my passion faded? A year ago, I would have accepted immediately, without a second thought.

After a lot of reflection—and many conversations with the people who know me best—I realised something important: wanting stability doesn’t mean I love performing any less. It simply means my priorities have evolved. It’s okay to crave rootedness. It’s okay to want a personal life. My love for acting doesn’t disappear just because “life” sometimes takes precedence.

With that reframing, and after some thoughtful coaching, I ultimately decided to take the job. The more I sat with it, the more I felt that familiar pull—the desire to reconnect with my purpose. Yes, it will be disruptive. Yes, it requires sacrifice. But this time I feel more prepared to hold both things at once: the exhilaration of doing what I love, and the tenderness of the life I’m building offstage.

My purpose is a disruptive one—demanding, all-consuming, and incredibly rewarding. This year, I’ve felt the weight of its sacrifices more than ever. But I’ve also gained clarity about what I need to feel whole.

I’ll check in in the New Year and let you know how it all went.