Thursday 31 January 2019

22: The Year I Broke



The Taylor Swift year. I don’t know about you, but this song gave me comfort when it was released. Taylor continued youth to 22. A new golden year. Does this mean Robert could keep his prime, his gold? No. The Velvet Rope dropped and revealed the arrogance I…may always hold.


The year started so calmly. I took 2 weeks off term for work experience at Manifest, and am forever grateful for the kindness I received, securing my belief that this is the environment I wanted to be in. Friendships are stronger than ever! Living far away sieves out who is truly special – the feeling of 'looking forward' is sweet and I crave it. Uni too, is also calm – my world is now a galaxy thanks to new international friends on my course.


Exploration of my sexuality grows, meeting new people and feelings along the way. Being part of a kink scene is exciting, but I’m still barely on the cusp of my own desires. Seeing my sister post a picture in a bikini threw me quite aback; she is also an adult now and exploring herself. I just can’t imagine herself like that; always my younger sister. Some things never change, thankfully.


My dissertation for my Masters, was not like an undergraduate. Apart from 2 tutor sessions…4 months were spent alone. I interviewed the most wonderful people. Influencers, fragrance specialists, Paco Robanne, Roja Dove! (perfumer to the stars). But in the end, I couldn’t do it. I would sit for days in my room, doing nothing, my mind blank. Every plan and re-plan shattered, never followed through. What I submitted was appalling. I don’t understand what the life lesson is here, that I failed to focus on the one topic that brings me pure joy. I can’t bear to talk to my lecturers. My dad’s ‘oh’, in the car when I revealed to him I would no longer be getting a first (regardless of firsts on every other module), will haunt me forever. Graduation was not fun, and now the first of my undergraduate feels like nothing. I can no longer grasp onto those happy feelings from learning in Brighton. Each new graduation I see on Facebook only brings me shame, from my own laziness and arrogance that life would sort itself out, that I would still be gold as I have always been when I didn't deserve it. I’m obsessed with numbers, and the reality of my own consequences crashed me.
Within this time, I applied for a handful of jobs, getting slowly better with each interview. I knew the questions that would come along but each rejection was quite nerve-racking (especially when I had taken a masters to excel in the very sector that I was applying in). Then suddenly, a new role appeared. ‘Graduate Scheme at The PHA Group’. At this point whilst I had done many, this was certainly the biggest group of applicants I had seen. I didn’t end up getting on the scheme, but I was recommended for another role in the company…as they remembered me. How? They were tickled at me choosing WKD (alongside the elaborate reasonings that followed), as to why that would be a brand I wanted to work with. And now I’m here. Social Media Assistant. In Soho! Working on wild clients in a wonderful team. My mental health has recovered; the dissertation and Uni overall, did not reveal the world of work to me. At 5:30…I am done. No more 24 hour thoughts. My creativity is loose. Is the Velvet Rope…back up?

My support group when I was accepted for my PHA interview ❤️
22 has been weird. I haven’t unpacked boxes even though I’ve been living in my new place for half a year, and I don’t have a clue about my finances. But other things have come naturally. Leaving Boots did not feel sad, bringing with it only happy and nurturing memories of the women that guided my young life there. Starting lovers have now drifted back into my life. This new year, is old and new and happy and calm. Cheers. To a new year of a new feeling – simplicity. Of no longer setting myself on a pedestal that I only I set myself up on...alone.
xo



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