In Your Twenties.
When I was
fifteen, I had this idealistic approach to your twenties, this safety net of
my youth wrapped within the freedom of adulthood. I wanted to be beautiful, the
type of beauty seen on the cover of magazines. I thought I would have long blonde
hair and wear high heels. I would live in a flat in London that is stereotypically
cool, but in that haphazard, alternative sort of way. It would have lots of
plants, and clothes everywhere, and candle holders made from wine bottles. I would
of course have a balcony that I would seductively smoke my vogues cigarettes whilst
pulling off a perfect red lip. I would live alone. I would write, design, and
cook. I would play my guitar on the fire escape in an arthouse film soundtrack
type of way. I would have a few boyfriends, not too many but enough to establish
my worth, continuing my independence whilst also not being bored. I would have plenty
of friends, more than enough so I would always have plans. We would drink wine,
try on lingerie, and tell each other our secrets. We would dance all night long,
and drink from the bottle.
When I was
fifteen my early twenties represented some monumental and all-encompassing new
beginning. A life from the likes of sex in the city and breakfast at tiffany’s.
I would imagine myself so far away from my life in rural Wales, I would be a city
girl, a heartbreaker, rule breaker, maybe even some kind of low-level
socialite. I would be free. I would be rid of the bullies of high school, or
everyone else for that matter, I would have my braces off and boobs will have
grown. I Romanised this era to my heart’s content, it was an utterly perfect destination
of freedom for my little teenage mind to head towards. Your twenties held this excitement
of independence without the boring monotony of adulthood.
When I was
fifteen, I thought when I was in my twenties, I would finally be old enough to
ask out Zac Efron. I would bump into him at a party where we would dance the
night away or maybe on some picturesque corner in Chelsea. Unfortunately, and
to my utter despair, I have never even met him nor am I on the breaking news
seen on the gossip section of Cosmo. I had no idea what real love was, I believed
love was a meeting ‘the one’ and being showered in gifts and affection. But in reality,
anyone can buy you flowers and chocolates, there’s no love in that. We live in
a society where it is cool not to have feelings. It’s cool not to care. Despite
the complicated rules of modern dating I still believe the truly romantic gifts
are those that show you care. It’s all about those random texts in the middle
of the day, just to let them know you love them. Love should be about being excited
to see them so you can tell them about your day or laughing at their jokes,
even the lame ones.
When I was
Fifteen, I didn’t understand that you cannot just simply pick up those aesthetically
pleasing apartments i used to see on Tumblr. I have however achieved a lot, even
more than I could have imagined. Not in the sense of money and societal status
but something far more than that. I have miraculously managed to create a life
for myself. I have discovered that I am capable
of anything I put my mind to and there is nothing that is going to be in my way.
I have lived a life I could have only ever imagined and learned lessons I think
often take a lifetime. I have become so much more than someone with red high
heels and an authentically unconventional Chelsea apartment.
