Hey, Hi,Hej ! 🙂
In the spirit of ushering a new year into my life, I have decided to do a “coming of age story.” It will probably be in parts because knowing myself and how I have a typing disorder I will not be done after 1000 words and that is just the minimum.
So shall we?
It might not be your typical, ” I am grown now and I don’t have the energy to party till 4 am” story, but then again it just might be. I shall just let my thoughts flow and hope that I make sense.
So once you hit 20,you begin to feel quite old. You can now enter the places that are “18+ ” restricted as well as those above 21. I mean you could do the same at 19, but it doesn’t feel as good as when you’re 20. Plus 20 comes with the “above 21” one. Yes, some people break the rules for you, I mean it is just one more year to 21 right? 20 was a good age to turn, it was my best birthday yet, Yes better than my 21st, but I still did not feel grown or mature.
My 21st flew by me, I had many firsts but nothing worth writing a “coming of age” story. But it was towards the ending of my 21 years on this earth that I began to feel that I was growing. When I experienced a lot of loss and hurt, and not just from losing my mother. A lot of betrayal and shame. A lot of this and that. That is when it began.
Some things did / do not make sense to me anymore.
The typical “I feel too old to rave” was just the beginning. I now prefer to go out for decent dinners and drinks with friends and tell stories,maybe dance a little and bam,its 4 am. The night did not involve club hoping from one “heng” (Daddy calls it henging) joint to the next, or squeezing my way through to the counter to grab another drink and it surely did not involve dramatic nights that leave you questioning people’s sanity at times.
I know I know…sounds like your story too? I am convinced that this is the first sign/ symptom of growing up. I have heard this story one too many times, in different versions, intonations,tones, and now this is my version. The millionth one probably.
I mean sure we will have those mad crazy,fall in the puddle,ruin make up, sweat a lot, lose voice, partial memory loss type of nights, but only every so often. Where’s the fun when it becomes a routine?
These days 4am arrives after I have laughed my guts out because I am blessed to have the funniest friends a girl could ask for, speaking of which my life partner just has to make me laugh!I don’t make too many jokes but I do love a good laugh.
4am arrives after I have poured out the sorrows of my heart to my friends and they have either scolded me because it was my fault or found the flip side of the coin. It finds me after we have reminisced over good times we have had, after we have given advice on different situations, after we have uplifted each other and purposed to be great,after we have elevated and motivated each other, after we have dared each other just for the fun of it and after we have moved our hips a little to the music.
There must always be dancing! It is an essential.
At the sunset of 21 I surely did begin to feel quite grown and this was only the beginning…