The Beginning of the End of My Twenties

In just over a week on Thursday November 25th, I will enter the last year of my twenties. This realisation feels scarier than I envision turning 30 might feel, thanks to a slight bit of internal pressure to get my act together before entering the next season of my life. I'm vaguely contemplating my hopes for the next year, planning on how to make life after 30 less tricky, whilst reflecting this morning on the moments that have shaped me, the things I've done, the things I haven't and who I am in this moment. Today. 

Everyone says your twenties are all about exploring, learning who you are and accepting that. And, I feel as though I'm living proof that you don't have to travel too far from home to truly explore and find yourself. Maybe in another life I'd of moved away from Devon, living more lavishly, or even living off the land. But, I've learnt a lot, been challenged enormously and overcome right in the place my mother was born. Honestly, I love that for me. I wasn't born here, but moved young and, this slower pace away from busy London where my life began, I needed as a child with huge fears and all consuming anxiety.

In a long lost draft of this, I trudge through each year tirelessly and tell you the defining points. That time I didn't go to graduation, the year my dad died and the time I attended counselling for the first time. The first time I roasted a chicken whole and the first ugly cake I ever baked. That time I burnt a sweet potato inside out or, that time I fell madly in love with a tattoo artist for two weeks, had great sex everyday, went on many dates and, then never heard from him again. In plentiful there's also been soft, light, warm moments too. Like, the hilarious messy year I lived with school friends. The first time I set eyes on my now partner, the many days out in our vintage car, moving to our first house, and the time he made me the most delicious lasagna. Then, there's many dinners with mum and meeting her new partner, saying a happy goodbye to my childhood home, drinks at my local Spoons with old colleagues, day trips to the beach and snowy getaways to the Cotswolds.

You get it. 

What I really want to say, and it's not short, is that the person I was at twenty years old was a baby. Only just opening their eyes to the world, tasting free birthday champagne for first time, discovering beer pong,  just about knowing how to cook fajitas and having memorised the number for my local Pizza Hut off by heart. My knowledge was limited. Not even my business degree taught me much. The person I was would be shocked to see me today. Proud and shocked. We might have thought I'd of learnt to drive by now, we might have thought I'd of passed my GCSE in math, but neither of those things have happened and I'm still in a good place. I work for the NHS, I live in a house with a BOY a thirty year old boy and, for two years in the past I managed to work one the hardest jobs imaginable during a pandemic. I have nice eyebrows now, know how to bleach my hair at home and have seven tattoos. I even like myself makeup free. I know my mind, why I feel the way I do, and know what boundaries I have in place. I understand my all important values, have good people in my life and, am a support for so many too. I have a full fridge paid by me and, can just about live my life how I like to...albeit, I wish I could afford a fancy trip abroad and the truth is I can't. Not anytime soon.

There's no right or wrong way to go about your twenties. Some travel the world, some live in shared housing, some live with their parents, some marry, some divorce, some save, some find themselves in debt. Some have high flying jobs they love, some are quitting and going solo. The most important lesson I've learnt during the last nine years of adulthood, is just to listen to yourself. Learn to surround yourself with people who love and welcome you as you are. Challenge yourself to overcome areas that cause you anxiety, but also, only do those things when they feel right for you. Don't pressure yourself to be someone else, or live up to other peoples expectations. Don't lose sight of who you are whilst discovering who you are. You will find yourself during dark, hopeless, ugly crying moments and come out the other side stronger for it.

I have zero clue how the next year of my life is going to pan out, but I know I'm a nice human with good intentions. I'm a hard worker even if often I'm easily confused. I care a lot, I'm nervous and timid sometimes, but I'm also kind and a deep thinker. I'm self aware even though I lack control at times. I'm sensitive and I'm generous. I'm protective of my time and I'm a worrier. I crave security and struggle with spontaneity. Most importantly, I like myself, I think I'm funny, creative and good company. 

Next year I hope to say the same.

I hope that we'll continue to live in this house for many more years to come, that my new job will keep getting better and that, by 30 I'll find myself in a slightly less troublesome financial state. However, if the last year has taught me anything, it's that we have very little control over the events that come our way. So, these hopes aren't strict and I wouldn't call them goals either. I just want to try. To live out this next year with the best intentions in mind, enjoying myself, letting go a little and trying to be more open minded. Whilst also, if it's possible, being more savvy and restraint with money, moving into a new era feeling much more comfortable than ever before.