If there's one thing I love in life, it's a plan. Whether it's what my day looks like, a coffee date with a friend on my calendar, or a life plan, like to have children or get married.

Plans help me feel as if I have some kind of control in my life, but what I'm realising as I get older is that plans really don't mean all that much. I can set my heart on something happening, but just because I plan for it doesn't mean it will go to plan, go well, or that it will happen at all.

If you have read any of my other posts over the last year, you will know that nothing in my life has gone to plan recently. So, naturally, I've lost all hope in plans, and I am trying to adapt to the idea of having a 'no plan' lifestyle.

As Kourtney Kardashian would say, I'm just 'living life'.

The thing is, I have never just lived life. I've always had hopes, dreams, aspirations, and most of all plans. I've built my life around some kind of structure that's made out of dreams and plans; only the dreams and plans weren't built of stuff strong enough to hold my life apparently.

Right now, in life, I feel much like a blob with no structure at all. In my mind, I resemble a piece of old, flattened Play Dough or something.

Once again, recently I've found my life completely changed as I am now planning to move out of my home and back home to my Mam after going through a breakup with the man I was engaged to. I had a plan. I was going to marry him, have more children and live in our house that we bought together; but I guess life had different plans to mine.

After every plan I've ever made being shattered into pieces over the last few years, I've officially given up on plans. Well, big plans anyway, I obviously still feel the need to micromanage my days, but as far as life plans go – I'm done.

Plans give me hope and help me feel as if I have some kind of control, but I'm starting to understand that I actually have no control these days!

I, therefore, have no choice other than to just 'live life' with no structure or plan and although it feels scary, I'm slowly getting on board with it. The spiritual side of me keeps reminding me that it's all for a reason, and it will all become clear one day, but the unknown is terrifying to me.

When I was a child, my family would make annual trips to Flamingo Land in the summer. I remember us parking in the car park and taking the walk to the entrance; hearing all the rides and the screams coming from people on them, the music playing loud, and the smell of food was pure happiness and excitement – that's what looking into my future once left like.

Now, it looks less like a fun theme park and more like one of them houses on Homes Under The Hammer. It has damp on the walls, the ceiling is falling down, tiles are cracked and the wallpaper peeling from the walls. It's all shabby and definitely not in the chic way!

After all the life plans I've had that have flown out the window over the years, you would think I would be used to starting over by now, but I'm really not. It feels as if I just get back on my feet from one thing and whoosh something else comes and takes my feet from under me again.

Despite having done it many times, there's nothing that scares me more than starting again. I acknowledge, however, that much like the houses on Homes Under The Hammer, I just need a bit of work and I'll be up and running again (total metaphor – I don't run anywhere!) The idea just feels a million miles away right now.

My only plan right now, and for the foreseeable future, is to have no plans (A bit of an oxymoron, I know) I will allow life to happen as it wants to, as I get back in my boat and push off into another stream of life and see where it takes me. I didn't bring any oars, so casting off could be a mistake, but in the name of having no plans – let's see where I go.