I’m getting slow in my old age, lads. Y’see, I turned twenty-nine 2 weeks ago and yet here I am only just typing up this post.
So hi, hello, twenty-nine. Nice to meet you, I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t have minded if you had let me stay mates with twenty-eight just that little bit longer but here we are.
My birthday was lovely, thanks for asking. I gathered together my family and Liam’s, and we went for a roast dinner at a lovely country-style pub just down the road from our new house. That’s what you do when you’re twenty-nine kiddos, you go for a Sunday roast and eat until you want to nap. You’ll love it. No hangover, just good old too-many-yorkie-puds regret.
Twenty-nine feels like a ~weird~ age. There’s no denying that I am in fact in my late twenties now. There’s also no denying that it won’t be long before I turn the big 3-0. Which seems pretty mental, actually. I don’t feel like I look or act like a twenty-nine-year-old, so in just under a year’s time will I suddenly feel ~very thirty~ and drink more wine or whatever it is that thirty-year-olds get up to. We’ll see, I guess.
My twenties have been an interesting period of my life. I was at Uni when I turned twenty, and that feels like a lifetime ago. I graduated in 2011 which feels like approximately 100 million years ago. I just about remember that pure, unadulterated fear of falling over as you cross the stage to receive your diploma which is actually totally just for show and your real diploma arrives in the post a few weeks later.
For almost the entirety of my twenties, I’ve been in a long-term relationship. I’ve lived with Liam for practically the whole of our relationship. We’ve had our ups and downs, but hellZ yeah(!!) are we in a much better place than we were when we first started the whole dating malarky.
I feel like we know each other better – so we understand each other more. Although I still don’t understand why he’s allergic to the washing up…
I’ve lived in multiple houses in my twenties. From shared housing at Uni, a place to rest my head between the crazy schedule of lectures, cinema shifts and nights out – through to the house we live in now in a quiet estate which feels v v grown up, but in the best way.
Where we are now is a far cry from the night’s I’d have to sneak into the house stinking to high heaven of popcorn or alcohol depending on the day of the week.
Throughout my twenties, I’ve also been crafting my career. Starting with the digital marketing exec job at the local theatre – and fast forward to now when I have my own business. It feels pretty damn crazy that I went from being a shy dogsbody Blu Tacking show posters to the wall of a Victorian theatre, to someone who can now rock up at a networking event and sell what they do to people older and probably wiser.
Although it happened later into my twenties than it should have, this is the period that introduced me to what should have been my number one priority all along – me. I started counselling, practising self-care and just generally being more forgiving of myself for things that I once considered to be deep, gaping flaws in my personality.
My sensitivity, my struggle with decision making and my bouts of self-doubt are now recognised and instead of trying to quash them or turn them into excuses, I am learning to understand them, control them and listen and learn from them.
I’d like to think nineteen-year-old me would be pretty impressed at how far I’ve come in a decade. I think I’d tell her that the people she’s surrounding herself with will soon disappear but although it will feel shitty at first, it won’t be long before she meets much better friends and someone pretty darn special.
I’d tell her that one day she’ll be sitting in her Batman pyjamas (she doesn’t have them just yet, but she’ll love them when she does), typing away on a laptop all about how far she has come, and now at the tender age of twenty-nine, realising that she has it pretty damn sweet.
Because she’ll need to hear that. Her late teens were a tough slog filled with the typical teenage drama of figuring out who you are and where your place is in the world. At that time, it feels like you ~have~ to figure out who you are, to know where you stand and how to move forward.
Twenty-nine-year-old me has come to terms with the fact that now and always, I am many things. Twenty-nine-year-old also knows that in another decade, I will have changed a lot all over again.