Wednesday, 17 July 2019

Am I living yet?

Am I living yet?

Turning 24 last year was a weird time for me, because I haven't felt twenty-anything since I turned 22. What was 24 meant to be? What did it look like? What career did 24 have and who was they friends with? I had so many questions but the ultimate one was: What should I have achieved before the big 25? Have I already failed my “early 20s”.

I'm constantly torn between what I like doing and what I think I should like doing. Because when its Saturday night and I'm in bed, watching Netflix, with some expensive snacks - I have no regrets. That's until I go online and see what other twenty-something's are doing...
Should I be WANTING to do that, should I be feeling the “FOMO” right now? I don't, I rarely do and I feel guilty for that.

Why? Because its not considered epic to be sat in on a weekend and find enjoyment out of a weekend spent walking your dog, grabbing brunch and settling in for the night with a film... Where is my Sunday hangover? My night full of fuzzy memories and drinking far too much? Will I tell my grandchildren about my far from wild youth and that I enjoyed nothing more than a night in with a film... Should I be making crazy memories that people will talk about for decades?

I know a night out in itself will rarely involve more than just a sickly hangover and a low bank balance. Looking back at when I was 18 and I went out every night of the week, I don't tend to daydream about the memories I made, I normally cringe. I would be drunk, embarrassing, normally wishing I was at home in bed and not paying £10 for a vodka lemonade in a sticky smelly nightclub.
It’s easily diagnosed that I'm an introvert. But am I an introvert who's wasting their youth? I'm not sure. If I did put my complaints to action I don't particularly think I'd come out the other side stronger or better off.

Even my wildest 18-year-old self didn't cause a riptide... There was no nip slips, road work sign stealing or one night stands. Did I do it wrong?

I think I'll always be scared that I've grown up too quick and the phrase "an old head on young shoulders" (that used to flatter me) now terrifies me. Am I wasting time?

My mum told me that people have different interests and we spend too much time exhausting ourselves trying to like the same interests. Some interests - like partying in your 20s - is seen as 'normal'. So its harder to justify not liking them. But I know for a fact when I'm a grandma I wouldn't want to look back on my youth as painful and fake. I wouldn't want to regret all the nights I forced myself to 'be normal' and allow my happiness to take a back seat.

Instead of forcing 'young' or 'normal' interests into my life, I’m just going to concentrate on what makes me happy. I love day dates, I love adventures to a garden centre, trying new foods and brunching. 

I’ll make memories as beautiful as when me and my friend Nadine went to Brighton for a day. Where we ate new food, painted pottery and sat on the beach chatting endlessly... Which to me, beats passing out in a taxi at 4am and having kebab in my hair. 

Maybe when my grandchildren ask why I drink my cup of tea from a wonky hand painted mug I can tell them that I made that myself, with my best friend Nadine, and I’ll take them to do it someday too.

How does that sound?

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