I have been clinging onto any last fragments of innocence I could as I approached my twenties. All I ever wanted to be as a child was a 'grown up', the whole 'thirty, flirty and thriving' mantra couldn't have rained anymore true for me as a pree-teen. I couldn't wait to have a job, my own money, get a boyfriend and make my own rules. How original of me. I was always desperate to grow up, to be 13, to be 18, constantly yearning for more independence and a life of responsibility. Now here I am, about to bid farewell to my teenage years and I want nothing more than to feel that childlike magic once again. I can’t help but feel like it’s not just the end of a decade, but the end of an era.
The other week, albeit I was hiding behind a black blazer and dark eye makeup, I didn't even get I'D on the door of a thirty-something hot spot bar, and I refused to believe that this man thought I looked over 25. So, without him even asking, I handed my provisional license to him and felt like one of those women in their fifties who drunkenly cackles to the bouncer, ``Don’t you want to see my ID love?' when it's very clear she is not 17 years old. I however, despite being of legal age to drink, thought my age could still pass as being slightly ambiguous, but apparently not.
I miss the thrill of using a fake ID. Who will I be tonight? It was like a game for us, memorizing the address and changing our social media accounts 'just in case' they asked to see it. Spoiler alert, for any underage drinkers out there, don’t waste your time, they never do! We would even borrow older girls' boots cards and old credit cards to have more than 1 form of proof that ‘yes, i am in fact Chelsea aged 23,living in Liverpool’. Yep that's me sir, with an address that states Liverpool but I have in fact a very clear Derby accent. I miss that feeling when the bouncer gives you the nod to signal 'you’re in’ and you walk through the doors of the bar with a sense of achievement and discreetly wait for the more baby-faced friends who are always a liability in these situations.(Liv if you’re reading this, it was always you!)
I miss the fact that me and my best friends saw each other every single day. All of our plans seemed to involve each other, like our very own cult, that praised the local pub adjacent to our college and £5 bottles of glens vodka were our saviour. Now I’m yearning for a time before everyone moved away for university or got full time jobs and made other friends in other cities with separate lives from ours, the one that we grew here in Derby. We knew all of the same people and the names of every boy one of us had ever even held hands with or kissed let alone slept with. We were living in a bubble of cheap rose wine dreams.
These teenage years have been the time where I have explored the possibilities of the world around me, with wide eyes and curiosity. So desperate to live the John Green YA novel experiences I’d read so much about, forever waiting for my ‘Perks of Being A Wallflower’ ‘we are infinite’ moment. It’s definitely true that you don’t really realise a special moment until it's passed and I’m lucky to have had endless amounts. I did everything you're supposed to do when you're a teenager (a part from maybe go to university, get a drivers license, and take a fuck load of drugs) and I wouldn't change any of it.
I broke hearts, and high heels, I fell in love and continue to live inside of his pocket 4 years later. I discovered feminism and sex and how the two are often misunderstood. I went up 2 bra sizes and I started to buy lace underwear and silk pyjamas like the Parisian young woman I pretend to be. I drank wine and spirits and tried to smoke cigarettes and weed and realised I don't particularly love either. I learnt that I can’t stomach vodka unless it’s mixed orange or some sort of fruity concoction and I learnt that I am incapable of making myself sick when I’m hungover.
I read a lot and I wrote a lot. I went to festivals and sat on shoulders in a crowd of thousands, wore bum bags in dance tents, and held hands at stages watching rock bands and rap artists. I went to parties and embarrassed myself with try-hard outfits and bad dancing. I cried when my boyfriend didn't call me pretty and I watched my friends get off with strangers in bars. I worked shitty part time jobs in retail shops and pubs getting paid £4.20 an hour. I did it all.
I’m going into my twenties with the same curiosity and excitement for life, but just with a little more money and better taste. Maybe I’ll come out of this decade as a mother, or a homeowner or somebody's wife. Or maybe I will have explored the world or wrote a best selling novel. I may not have either of those things as I'm turning 30, but I hope I can look back at the end of them, as I am looking back now and realise that nobody really knows what they're doing, not even grown ups.
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