As an almost-twenty year old girl I’m pretty comfortable in who I am. This in no way means that I know who I am, but I am confident/borderline-cocky in it. I stand tall in my magic shoes.
I had a great childhood, but as most girls did, I grew up too fast. I was in a rush for fancy knickers and long hair and dreamy boys. I apologise to my younger self for the fact that I am still in similar undies that I was wearing ten years ago, still have the same haircut and still have the same love life.
But little old me (at age nine) was wild. I mean, really. Spent her day dreaming of John Lennon and singing traditional Spanish songs in an all-girls choir and drawing ‘Matthew’ with love hearts around his name. Not much has changed since. But the John Lennon part is a standout. It summarises my younger-self well. I was stuck in my Beatles/Rolling Stones/Van Morrison ways until only a few years ago. I was too scared to be a girly girl. I was a proper tomboy for years. I shuddered at the thought of a skirt or anything pink in my cupboard.
But never fear. I am making up for lost time now. Nineteen is all about returning to everything I missed and more.
- Girl groups
- Boy bands
- A lot of pink and a lot of glitter
- Sisterly love
- Slumber parties
- Dance parties at 2am by myself to early 2000’s music
- Singing into a hairbrush while home alone
- Dressing up in my craziest, mismatching outfits and leaving the house in them, with my only reasoning being ‘this is my mood today’ and calling it ‘experimental’
- Keeping a diary
- Writing love letters
- Day dreaming
- Pompoms
- Themed birthday parties
- Braided hair
- Full fringes
- Believing in magic
- Seriously questioning if the clouds are fairy floss
I haven’t stopped dreaming of John, nor have I stopped singing the dreaded ‘Oye’. But I am happy in my girly ways. I hope the amount of glitter I find in my sink each day only increases and that the people whose names I draw hearts around only become dreamier as the years go on.
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