Chronicles of one girl's journey to London - from conception to eventual migration.

Thursday, December 22, 2011


I turn 26 today. 2-6. It is an average age to be. It is neither too old nor too young. I am firmly engrained into my 20s, and my 20s version of adulthood (which, in my case, means having a boyfriend, a flat, a job and a lovely wardrobe but no kids, mortgage or walk-in closet yet). So, I look back and wonder: Where did my 20s go?!

Warning: introspective ramblings follow

And that's when I realize they didn't GO anywhere. They've been right here, accompanying me as I threw myself into my own life. I was almost exactly 21 and a half when I was single again for the first time in almost 5 years and, with no disrespect to the quite nice ex-boyfriend, I consider that the moment when my life kicked into the gear I wanted it to.

I partied my way through the rest of 21, into 22 and on to 23. In that time, though, I made some amazing connections with people I cannot forget. I don't feel any of my time was wasted; even the time spent just sitting on Badr's couch, slightly out of it, was time I enjoyed. I made several mistakes but I regret almost none. I did what I wanted when I wanted and how I wanted. It was good! It's how you should live your 20s if you can. These are your years to use up in whichever way you want.

And then, of course, at 24 I made the decision to move out of the comfort of my mother's (Miss Clara's word again) house and all the way across the Atlantic to London. I made my life way harder than it has ever been, but I like it more than I ever have. I've met even more great people and I've travelled to lots of places. I've lived my DREAM and I can't help but feel smug about it. So, smug I shall be for now.

For those who have followed the blog (or know me) you already know about the ups and downs of my move to London and you know I would change nothing about the last 18 months.

From 21 to today, at 26, I can definitely say I have come a long way. More than just my location, my outlook on life has changed and I really do feel more "grown up". It's a short amount of time for that to happen considering you spend the first 13 years of your life gradually earning your stripes to make it through teenhood.

In our 20s, a year can mean the difference between single and married - willingly so. It can mean the difference between intern and manager (yes, really) and it even means a few months means the difference in willingly becoming a parent.

So, 5 years down the road, I can look back and feel like the time may have whizzed by but it was in a flurry of accomplishments and great memories.

The moral of the story: if you do what you want, and you do it with passion and confidence, your 20s actually are some of the best years of your life. Although I'll let you know how I really feel about that when I'm 36 (good heavens)!

TL;DR: I'm getting older. I don't mind cause I've done stuff.

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