turning 20 soon, but still hate baths + lasagna

warning: all blogposts for the forseeable future will include reference to my age, because I am turning 20. Twenty! The big 2-0! The step into adulthood! The losing of my teenage years! You are not 19 forever! 20!! I will be turning twenty! (please hold all birthday cards and birthday presents for 26/04/2019 as that is the official date of the big day - don't feel surprised if anything strange happens that day ~ aka a giant rainbow, getting all green traffic lights, waking up with clear skin ~ it's just that the world revolves around me and everyone will be alerted of my birthday in some way  xoxo)

I don’t like baths. I’ve never really liked baths, the idea is nice and soothing but in my reality, baths never are soothing. It usually takes me about 15 minutes to actually get into a bath. I do the thing where you swirl the water with your hand, decide it's ready, get naked, pop a toe in, decide it needs to be about 75 degrees cooler so pop on the cold water and carry on swirling whilst still being naked with the constant concern of the environment and someone walking in on my mind. I end up splashing half the water out the bath in attempts to get comfortable before deciding to just sit in the middle in a state of distress. I notice things about my body, I see the steam rising off my body and curse myself for being such a fucking idiot for having a bath. I get hot, I get sweaty, I try to clean off the sweat but I can't tell anymore if the dampness I feel is from the water or the sweat. I sit there, I try to read, I can't read because I'm naked and vulnerable and uncomfortable, I try to clean myself again but baths never make me feel clean. It's just not a fun process for me.

I had a bath earlier, and I hated it. I can't remember the last time I had a bath before earlier, but I'm pretty sure it was exactly like that.

It’s strange because I’ve changed so much, yet I still don’t like baths, absolutely hate lasagna, I still reach for my blankey every night and occasionally have the familiar nightmare of being sent to boarding school that is run by giant ants that chase me. Turning twenty feels like a big deal, it’s a step into adulthood. Whenever someone behaves petty I use the ‘we’re almost twenty stop being so childish’ argument but I’ve also realised that turning twenty doesn’t actually mean anything. There is no age that defines adulthood, despite being twenty sounding good in an argument against immaturity, that’s the extent its grandeur. Sure, I’ve changed but being twenty is just a thing isn’t it. I’m still going to ask my mum for an advent calendar at Christmas, but I’ll be an adult. 

I have never really enjoyed my birthdays since entering the double digits. As I've gotten older birthdays have more been a reflection of the things I didn't achieve. For years I had this twisted mentality where my birthday would come about and all I would see is the weight I didn't lose, the friends I had lost and all those bitter things. Now my thoughts are less cynical, I see my body and my face and just unhappily accept that it is what I am, but I'm finding it easier to see a future. My past got me to university, it got me to great friends, it got me to be a new person, it got me to be a girl (NOT!! A WOMAN!!) who will happily dance on tables and speak in seminars. My future seems more hopeful, there isn't much direction but I'm studying a subject I love, I know I want to volunteer, I know I want to travel again. I find it difficult to enjoy my birthday because I don't really want to celebrate another year of failures, but with me and my friends constantly moving towards adulthood - away from bouncy castles and twister and Costco cakes and an unfiltered sense of self, I want to celebrate my birthday by momentarily going back to naivety. The loss of innocence isn't as melancholic as novels make it out to be, it brings about necessary intelligence, but it's hard not to see it as a desolate thing when your birthday is approaching and your mind is full of things you haven't done.

I am celebrating my birthday with pancakes, twister, many shots, many gin and tonics, cluedo, a bonfire, you name it- I most probably want it. I may not be overly happy with where I am now, but I'm proud of myself for making it to here. It feels silly to have another year of not celebrating my birthday and spending the day in a state of distress and upset. A birthday celebration doesn't have to be a celebration of your life, I think I'm going to use it as what is to come in my life. I'm feeling empowered, I'm not feeling ready for twenty but fuck it, at least it's not thirty.