I'm feeling 22

So today is the day I’ve spent the past month dreading – my birthday. I’m officially 22. Twenty-two. Twenty-fucking-two. Now you’re probably thinking that it’s really not that big of a deal, but to me, it is. It’s adult age. Pay-your-own-bills-don’t-forget-to- buy-fresh-milk age. Madness.

I’ve never really had a plan for my twenties, well nothing specific anyway. I knew I wanted to write, be living in London, and maybe get a degree? Luckily, I’m doing all three, but what’s next? Now that I’m an adult, what the fuck is next?

Looking back over the past year though, it’s been fucking amazing. I managed to drag myself through my first year at University, intern at some pretty cool places and land myself a part time job writing for a magazine. 21 was a good year, but I’m genuinely a little bit scared as to whether or not 22 is going to live up to its predecessor. It best bloody had, otherwise myself and 22 will be having words.

Now I’m going to go play me some Taylor Swift on repeat…

It’s okay to want to be single

I’m turning 22 in two weeks, and right now the only positive is that I can sing Taylor Swift non-stop for twelve months without any judgment (okay, well there’ll probably be a little bit of judgment). Two of my closest friends are happily in relationships, another is happily stoned and the others? Well they live on the other side of the country.

And myself? I’m single, have never had a relationship that’s lasted longer than thirty minutes, and I’m currently a bottle of wine down and just an hour ago found myself watching Bridget Jones, eating ice cream and debating whether or not to bleach my toilet for fun. I decided I needed to do something (because who the fuck bleaches their toilet for fun), so I’m writing.

Recently, with one friend ever-so slightly stoned 24/7, two others having significant others that take precedent over myself, I’ve been feeling lonely, and very single. Oh god, even writing it sounds pathetic. But then again, that’s part of the problem isn’t it? Everyone’s so scared of expressing how they feel due to a fear of other people’s judgement that we all tend to just pretend we’re okay. It’s silly really.

In order to combat the loneliness, I decided to go on a date. Always my go-to. I thought to myself ‘maybe I just need a boyfriend’, and maybe a relationship would tackle my loneliness, which, within the past two months has been reiterated by my best friend at least four times. Having someone to share London with, from the West End shows I adore to grabbing ice cream from Amorino’s in Covent Garden. The little things that I usually do by myself, but that I assumed would be better with another person in tow.

So I went on said date, and I had fun. Well, I slept with him two hours in so I guess it got about as fun as it could of. And this is my problem. I realised halfway through that a relationship isn’t what I want. I’m not ready for the responsibility of the dependency of another person. I’m just not. Sex is great. Having that level of intimacy with another person is nice, but it’s all of the extras that I’m not ready for. Basically everything within a relationship that isn’t sex. I realised that I want to be single, and I shouldn’t beat myself up about it. I shouldn’t force myself into a situation simply because my friends are in such a situation. Relationships are not the be all and end all.

But loneliness sucks.

And I’m still lonely. (Although the sex did help slightly).

I think it’s more of a matter now of becoming okay with being alone. Because being alone and being lonely are two completely different entities. I don’t want to cover up this emotion by surrounding myself with more people, or making my friends spend more time with me, or calling my mum way more than I probably should. I want to beat it. Completely eradicate it from my psyche.

I guess it’ll take time. But at least I’m aware of it now. And I’m aware that it’s a matter of just loving myself more than I love anything else. Because, let’s face it, at the end of the day we only ever truly have ourselves to depend on. And that’s actually 100% okay.

FYI, I bleached my toilet.

It's okay to be homesick, really.

I've spent the past two weeks feeling down. I wouldn't say depressed (although that's the reason I keep giving my friends as an excuse after I snap at them, 'Sorry, I'm depressed, so forgive me please and thank you.') as depression is serious, and I don't believe I've had a bout of it yet, even though at times, when I'm two tubs of Ben and Jerry's deep, it sure as hell feels like it.

I realised this morning, and after spending last night cuddled up next to my flat mate while on the verge of tears, that the reason I've been feeling so down, is that I'm homesick. And now, it seems so obvious. My eldest sister has just given birth to the cutest little boy, who I'm yet to see, I've not seen my parents since Christmas, and sometimes, just sometimes, I even miss being a dependent, and having my family provide for me. Because, well, being an adult can fucking suck, and having to provide for yourself, in an oversized and overcrowded city like London, can be incredibly daunting. I've also realised that feeling like this is completely okay, and completely normal.

Depression, and especially the feeling of being incredibly homesick, is very common in students who move away from home for University, even more so in students who attend city Universities that don't really have a campus feel to them. Some days I feel like an overgrown child playing grown up in a place I'm just not ready for yet, but then I have days (and these days far outnumber the former) that I love being here. I love being in the capital. I love the access I have to everything that I could possibly want, and I just need to remember that to get through the periods of feeling down. Being homesick is perfectly fine, but don't let it ruin your experience at University, and especially don't let it intrude on your studies, like I did this morning, when I chose curling up in a ball and sleeping instead of attending a lecture.

There'll be days when you just want to stay indoors, where no one can irritate you, and upset you further, and just eat and sleep. My advice? Do it. But afterwards? Get up, get dressed, make yourself look good, so you feel good, and tackle the outside world. I keep thinking to myself that I made the decision to go to University, I made the decision to move to the capital, and I want to be here. Remind yourself why you're doing what you're doing, and if you have to, go home for a few days, but if you're like me, and you can't afford to, there's always FaceTime. It's not the best, but it sure helps.

Just know that feeling homesick is a part of moving away from home for University, but there are plenty of pro's that outweigh this con, and London is worth it. University is worth it.

And remember, it's okay to be homesick, really.