My last day of being in my twenties and what a decade it’s been.
It’s seen me drop out of uni, spend 12 weeks in the Priory, almost lose my remaining parent, gain a Stepmother, gain two sisters’ in law and two beautiful nephews, have 9 different jobs and 12 addresses, have 5 general anaesthetics, get diagnosed with a load of ‘disorders’ and start a heap of medication, gain weight, LOSE weight, gain wonderful friends, lose wonderful friends, go to some beautiful weddings, attend some heartbreakingly sad funerals, start a blog, write a book, get an agent, lose an agent, go on my first ever date, send my first ever Valentine’s card, be resolutely single, wonder what it’s all about, stress about becoming an old maid, spend £500 on a teddy bear, go on a ‘date’ with Greg James from Radio One, go through what was tantamount to a housemate divorce, attend my first music festival, dance barefoot in Hyde Park to Kings of Leon, go snorkelling and in a speedboat in Cuba, and throughout it all, have a crushingly low sense of self esteem and self confidence.
Tomorrow I’m getting a tattoo to bid farewell to my twenties in all their higgledy piggledy light and shade highs and lows glory. It’s going to serve as a reminder of everything that I have been faced with and come through stronger. Sure I’m a bit broken inside but am always in the process of healing myself and as my friends always tell me I need to give myself more credit for how far I’ve come, this tattoo in three digits will sum up the past decade and the journey I am on.
I’m having the weight that I was when Mr Shaw Somers saved my life on the 17th July 2008 inked inside my left wrist so that whenever I look down at it I can cherish how far I’ve come and remember where I was, without ever having to go back there.
Closure some might say.