23... Part 1

We were all so excited, weren't we? The prospect of hitting our 20's, no longer having to answer to our parents, no longer having to carry fake ID's around or go out with an obscene amount of optimism, knowing full well that the chances of us getting into that exclusive night club were next to none. Oh the naivety of being 12, 13, 16, 17... Counting down the months until that next big birthday that meant we were closer to our dream decade... Our 20's- home free! Free from the burdens of school, free from the restrictions of our allowances, in a steady job... Wasn't it all so ideal?

Not for the show itself, but for the portrayal of 20-something girls as hunters- of self-discovery, security, balance and clarity. 

And then it hits... You're in your 20's, you're not quite where 18 year-old you envisioned, you're probably even further away from where 21-year-old had hoped. And then it's like:

Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes.

The Winter of Air via http://kalynroseanne.tumblr.com/

This is me at the moment. A rather underwhelming place to be- too young to not need my mummy and daddy, yet slightly too old to... That uncomfortable moment when you can feel like a foreigner in your own body and then in the next five minutes be the most aware you've probably ever been... A rock, me, the hard place.

23 is an awkward age. What I thought I went through in my teens, I'm currently experiencing: the quest to find myself- thoroughly. I don't think you ever fully discover yourself- which is slightly alarming yet beautiful; the idea that you are an ever changing- ever evolving (or devolving) being, but your 20's provide you with the opportunity to really study your characteristics, your appearance, your circle of friends and your interests and then make a more informed decision about who you are. The catch? It's not that straight-forward. What I'm finding is that I am constantly battling the different shades of me. At 23, this has become blindingly clear, I just wish it was a little more vivid at 21... The journey to discovery seems to have hit me at a slightly later stage than I had hoped. Or maybe I still nurse those naive expectations of where and who I thought I'd be at 23.