I live in East London with 5 other girls, in the same house that I have for two years now.

My hair is newly dyed ginger, I love it.

My favourite things to wear are big trousers with tiny crop tops, my perfect pink ballet slippers or a little dress with a big blazer. I’m in a complex place with makeup and I’ve been trying to learn to do it differently. It’s going okay.

My favourite books of the year were I’m Glad My Mum Died, Good Pop, Bad Pop and Happening. My reading has slowed a lot but is picking back up.

I’m still a big film person. In the last year I especially loved Pearl, Barbie, Mistress America and Bones And All.

My favourite albums to sing in the shower are Preachers Daughter by Ethel Cain, anything by Phoebe Bridgers or Taylor Swift.

My favourite smell is still Karma perfume from Lush or the smell of a dance right as you blow it out.

My favourite things are movie nights alone with fresh cookies, negronis or dirty martinis, field trips with friends that involve dinner and dancing, going to gigs and getting a nice little coffee.

I’m in love with how writing feels at the moment, the friends I’ve made over the last year and silly pretty things.

I sleep on my left side with a scruffy bear tucked under one arm and a newer bear by my tummy.

To self-soothe, I stroke my side with my finger, do yoga or stay busy. I’ve had to do a lot of that lately.

I’m still, STILL trying to drink more water. I want to wake up earlier and go to bed earlier.

My 25 birthday was lost in a void of hefty heartbreak. The first half of 2023 feels like a black hole. A deep pit. A big walk out of hell and I’m only just realising that if I don’t look back, I’ll make it out. It’s hard to celebrate when sadness like that has it’s claws in you, it makes everything relate back to the heartbreak – but I tried. I wore a t-shirt with Miffy on it, did yoga, bought myself pastries and called my mum. I ate tacos with my friends, screamed when they brought me out a cake with candles and laughed till my sides hurt at comedy. 

 

Every year feels like a lesson in resilience and I think at 25 (and a half), I’m coming to understand that’s what life is. Bree tells me that when I go to hers and we wax lyrical on the balcony, having one drink and staring at her twinkly eyed with awe. I look round at the friends I’ve made over the last year, more than I have since the first year I started uni, and I see all their strength. On valentine’s day, two months before my birthday and right in the depth of the pain, I painted place names for my table and knew every guest had felt this. I had friends come over and check on me, I spoke to my mum about what it felt like to her back then, I slowly ate more and woke up less afraid. I’m coming to realise that resilience isn’t a big trait, it’s not the burden I once felt it as, it’s just living. It feels so heavy at the time. I remember feeling winded by my life but now in October I look back at April and remember the big gasps of air as I giggled with my friends and talked to them to get through it. I was still there breathing, I’m still here breathing.

 

The whole – the 25^th revolve around the sun from last April to this – felt punctuated over and over by loss! And loss? And loss… I lost a love, lost friends, lost a job. I lost writing for a long time. I lost track of what I thought I wanted to fill my time with and lost the thrill of going outside and living silly, in favour of staying home and living safe. 

 

But the half, the semi-circle from April to today, has been my most joyful age despite it all. I don’t remember feeling joy so viscerally before. But now it’s fizzy and real. I go to gigs and come home aching from dancing. I go on nights out and let the next day start around me, still out and enjoying it. I let my weekends be wide open and trust that fun will find me, friends will be there, something nice will come up and it does – I go for walks, I look at art, I drink and know no one expects much more than that. 

 

I think I like it. I think I’m happy again. I think I’m ready to document that, put it on record.

 

And as for my wishes – a tattoo, a haircut and a holiday – I had them all and blew out the candle asking simply for more.

I live in East London, with 5 other girls.

My hair is still my natural colour as the fear of change grew back out with my roots.

My favourite things to wear are my velvet backless dress, my little black dress, my chunky loafers and my soft green jumper. I do my makeup far more now, regularly painting pink or blue lines over my lid.

My favourite books of the year were My Year Of Rest and Relaxation, Nina Simone’s Gum and Acts Of Desperation. I’ve started reading far more again since the new year.

I still watch too many films to have a favourite, but real stand outs this year were Summer Of Soul, Promising Young Woman and The French Dispatch.

My favourite albums to sing in the shower are Home Video by Lucy Dacus, anything by Taylor Swift and my Prince playlist.

My favourite smell is Karma perfume from Lush or my room after burning incense. 

My favourite things are movie nights alone, negronis, days out in the city, fresh nails, when an artist walks onto stage at a gig and baths.

I’m in love with my life in London, my friends and the ways we communicate, my silly little things, my writing.

I sleep on my left side with a scruffy bear tucked under one arm. 

To self-soothe, I stroke my side with my finger, breathe deeply and drink hot tea.

I’m still trying to drink more water, and I want to implement a habit of being easier on myself. I know how hard I’m trying, but only at the latter.

As I turned 23, I wrote about wanting to float. I wanted to let life take me while I sunk into it, enjoying the view, resting here a second. I think I did that, but not in the way she thought. I didn’t get any tattoos or haircuts or holidays, but the year’s lazy river drifted me to a different city, through two jobs, two homes, a brief period of relative homelessness and a brief period of unemployment. Like something out of a video game, the sky when from rainbows to rain, to crashing thunder to brightness again. And when my old self begged for a period to relax into fate, I don’t think she had in mind the kind of surrender fate demands of you.

More than ever now do I understand the cliché of what is meant to be will be. For year my tarot cards have been telling me to keep doing what I was doing, I kept pulling wands that said to work without a big show, keep going, define success in my own way, drive towards purpose without making a big deal of it. And I did, then this year they finally turned to swords, to the end of struggle and the opening of a period of knowing and outright creativity and excited work. Re-reading last year’s reflections, I can only mirror what she said. My emails continue to baffle me, as I collect gig tickets and think about the people I’ve met or spoken to, I want to race back in time to brag to 13-year-old Lucy, dance around excitedly with her in our red bedroom. A year on, it’s my job. Two months ago I became a deputy editor of a music magazine, and younger Lucy would lose her mind. On my actual birthday, we came together for a second to share a happy cry in the bathroom of Soho house at a film screening; I feel her squeezing my hand in moments like that, using it more and more as a grounding remind that this is happening, I floated right into this down a river of work.

But beyond that, at 23 I wanted more time to live life undefined by productivity, and I think I did that too. A major reason for the move, London demands far more time from you. It coaxes you out with parks and galleries and shows and all its neighbourhoods. The weekends I’d spend hidden away in my Manchester flat feel impossible now that theres Hyde park’s cycle paths down the road, Barbican martinis, the Tate balcony. And finally I think somethings broken through. After six months in a job that really wasn’t right for me, stripping me of the time I needed to write and feel productive, it was lost to survival mode. And while things were exciting and fun, now having a job that makes me feel productive within the daily hours is something I never thought would be enough for me, but I think this is what it’s all about. Logging out ready to stretch into hobbies, go out in the sun, spend Saturdays busy with fun and external interest. 

At the start of 23, I don’t think I would have ever imagined it. But at 24, I know for sure I wanted it more than anything, I just still can’t quite believe all the surrender and trust got me here somehow. So I only have the same hopes for my year; I’ll say I want a tattoo, a haircut and a holiday and see what life offers up next.

✿✿

 I live in Manchester, alone.

My hair is my natural mousey brown with a slight gingery tinge. The year demanded my bleach as sacrifice.

My favourite things to wear are my Burberry trench, my white floral jeans and my grey lounge trousers. I haven’t been on a night out in over a year, but when I do, I vow to try harder with my makeup.

My favourite books this year were I’m With The Band by Pamela Des Barres and Platinum Blonde by Phoebe Stuckes.

In the last year I watched over 90 films so I can no longer have a favourite. But highlights included Babyteeth, the Before Sunrise series and the documentary about Leonard Cohen and Marianne.

My favourite albums to sing in the shower are Evermore by Taylor Swift, Purple Rain by Prince and Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers.

My favourite smell is the Twilight body spray from Lush.

My favourite thing is getting letters from friends, disposable cameras, Saturday morning pastries and cooking myself meals with wine on a Friday.

I’m in love with myself, my friends, the things I own, my brain, Taylor Swift and Patti Smith.

I sleep on the right side of the bed on my left side, with a pillow pressed up against my back and silently cursing myself for staying up so late on TikTok.

I repeat this mantra to myself; it’ll be fine.

I’m trying to implement a habit of drinking more water and going to bed earlier, still.

My 23^rd birthday passed unmiraculously, as they generally seem to when you get older. One day I’ll no doubt recount the occasion to future children with some grandeur of how the normalcy of seeing friends felt novel, how I got drunk off 2 drinks with the excitement of it all, and spent it wrapping in a cardigan made by the hands of a dear friend. But now I tell people it was nice, lovely even, fun.

By this point I’ve usually manifested, marked another year passed with a tarot card pointed direction and a fresh to-do list that masquerades as goals. Before I’d write holiday, published novel, empire. This year I can’t muster anything but holiday, haircut, tattoo, and I think I love it.

I turned 23 as the climax to a week spent out of office in the some-what second career I made myself in my 22^nd year. I think maybe I finally learnt the lesson of rest, ticking films off a bucket list and turning a book pile into a bedside. Rest and balance, as I ring in my 23^rd year with email chains that might as well be daisies as I smile down on pixel names I dreamed of as a teen.

It’s odd. As I turned 23 I thought mostly of 13 when I was sad, and dreaming, and read NME articles I now right. At the end of my 22^nd year I had no big conclusions other than younger me would think I was cool, I have no doubt on that. I think she’d be proud, exhale and drop some of the weight on her shoulders as from where she’s standing, everything looks so much better than just okay. I also have no doubt that at 33, I’ll write the same thing about me now. While I may hate ageing more than ever in a year that gave me my first wrinkle, I think I’ve finally settled into the comfort that self-development will happen without much input, all things generally flow to the place they should, and I will more than likely be fine, have a nice day, smile.

In my 22^nd year, despite it being spent mostly in lockdown which I clearly didn’t expect when I wrote grand hopes of 3 holidays; I was happy. In my last birthday blog, I reflected on building the life my 21-year-old-self hoped for, and I’m in a similar position as I email editors, gather by-lines and fall asleep spinning ideas around my head. I have a stack of zines with my work in, I have a portfolio, I have a (very humble) bank account with money from commissions, and my old self dreamed about it all. It hit me the other night that I have nothing to dream about at the moment, struggling to figure out a story to tell myself as I drift off without it turning into strategy or email templates. Development isn’t a romantic dream to have, but I think I love the smallness of it, giving me so much space around it where I’m realising life fits. That’s where new friends fit, and boyfriends, and calls with my mum on lunch times, nice Friday dinners I cook myself, new art prints on new shelves, Saturday morning pastries, days off, pub nights, plans that can’t be formulated into emails and existing without word count. So for 23 I have no big goals, just a holiday, a wild haircut and a silly tattoo, continuing with my work and rattling around the space called living.

I live in Manchester.

My hair is bleach blonde with awful roots and a grown-out fringe. I haven’t been to the hairdressers in 4 months and I’m incapable of resisting a 2-monthly urge to dye it pink.

My favourite things to wear are my Burberry trench, my big black oversized jumper and my new Docs. On a night out I wear my denim mini skirt and paint an attempt of an Edie Sedgwick cut crease onto my eyes.

My favourite books this year were The Year of the Monkey by Patti Smith and In Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept by Elizabeth Smart.

My favourite films at the moment remain Leon The Professional, Marie Antoinette and Heathers. But recently I loved The Dreamers, Clockwork Orange and Love and Mercy. I’ve started keeping lists of what I watch and read.

My favourite albums to sing in the shower Fine Line by Harry Styles, Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys or Norman Fucking Rockwell by Lana Del Rey.

My favourite smell is Palo Santo incense, Ginsberg Is God perfume by Bella Freud, or as always, my Mum cooking a roast.

My favourite thing is getting letters from friends or taking myself out on a date to the galleries then to a café to write on a Sunday. I also love disposable camera photos and going to the pub.

I’m in love with myself, my friends, the city I live in, Harry Styles, Patti Smith and everyone else I know.

I sleep on the right side of the bed on my left side, with thunderstorms playing quietly, and going to bed way later than I tell myself I will.

I repeat this mantra to myself; I am doing so well.

I’m trying to implement a habit of drinking more water and going to bed earlier.


If I go back through my old posts in this blog, I can now find pieces I’ve written on my birthday every year since I was 16. I’ve always been a reflective person, and admittedly that makes me kind of hate occasions, finding it all too easy to get bogged down with regret or nostalgia for the age I’m leaving. But this year as I settled down for a birthday ritual of journaling and a tarot card pull, I mostly just felt content in the chaos going on. Last year I signed off saying I wanted to simply float into a new year. It’s weird to read as on the cusp of 21 I was preparing to graduate and move, so aware of all these huge changes that were coming my way. And on the cusp of 22, I was aware of the huge lack of that.

This year I ticked off all the big life things, I graduated and got a job and moved, so now all that’s left is things I do or make happen. All the pre-planned milestones of my teens are behind me now, and I could easily panic about that, but instead, I’m choosing to be excited. I’m choosing to be proud and celebratory. At 21 I imagined the year as full; ‘I imagine them full of gigs, theatre trips, city breaks, friends, new places to brunch, new regular spots, new people to catch up with.’ I got it all as I think back on gigs as Castle, trips to the Royal Exchange, visits to London, brunch at Evelyn’s, weekly coffees at Idle Hands, new friendships full of new belly laughs and gossip. On the cusp of 21, I fantasied about the reality I made, and I love that so much.

When I did a tarot card pulling thinking about my 22nd year, I pulled the upright queen of swords and smiled to myself. It’s a card of balance between head and hurt, equal parts giving and guarding, future-facing but proceeding with an openness that is sensible and protected. It’s exactly what I was hoping to see, so I feel good about it. Future facing feels like the buzzword, I see the queen of swords on a coast looking outwards into open space. It feels like something out of a Florence and the Machine video in a dramatic and glorious way. She represents intellect, sharp wit, honesty, self-reliance; she’s a mature woman, forthright and supportive. I look forward to stepping into that power.

Unlike at 21, there’s not much I can say about turning 2, other than I’m happy. I’m really happy and content with my life, the last year blessed me with beautiful people and a beautiful city to call hope, all of which I can’t wait to be reunited with post-lockdown. I’m excited to be reunited with freedom in a new age for a year of complete control, a free timeline with nothing already set up to happen. I can do what I want at 22, and so I think I’ll write more short stories and try to go to 3 different countries. I think I’ll continue to work hard on this blog and Kiloran, I think I have a lot of fun, I think I’ll get another tattoo.

I’ve long since stopped caring about who reads these posts, so I leave this here as a time capsule, ready for the eve of turning 23. 

Last year I set these goals for myself, and without realising I've smashed them, for once I actually met my own goals. Maybe I am growing.

I voted in my first election, started taking my mental health seriously and respecting my emotions, joined burlesque, made a whole new lil family of friends, read a lot, made a lot, and been more in love than ever. I feel pretty achieved. But what now?

In true Carrie Bradshaw style, I'm turning to cosmo. Not a cosmo, though I wish it was. Cosmo suggests 8 questions to reflect on each birthday. Lets begin.

What do I like about my life?
My friends, my family, my relationship, myself, my degree. I like how absolutely hilarious I am.

What are some things I want to be different by next year?
I'd like to have a clearer image of my future, and be confident in my ability to make that happen. I want to be more independent, more social, braver, and excited about the future. By next year I'll have pretty much finished uni and right now that's absolutely terrifying, by then I want it to be less scary hopefully.

Who are the people who most add to my life?
My friends - they all provide something super different that I need and love them for so much. In the last year of my life I've finally formed my dream little circle of besties who are all hilarious, supportive feminist babes who make me feel super mega loved and constantly boost my ego.

My boyfriend - my ultimate bestie who keeps me safe, defuses all my life crises and always knows what I'm thinking. In the last year he's made me brave and pushed me to experience and slowly crawl out of my comfort zone. Also he's fit and just looking at him adds to my life.

My mum - our relationship has grown and changed so much this past year, and I'm now slowly morphing into her when she was my age in the 80s. I don't know what I'd do without her.

What is the most important habit or activity to add or subtract from day-to-day living?
I'd like to add more alone time to my day to spend being mindful and reading and taking care of myself. I'd also like to dedicate more time to cooking proper meals, and getting into a proper routine with uni work before my final year.

I've said it a million times but I'd like to spend less time on my phone, who knows maybe I'll actually do it this year. Probs not.

How would I rate my life in the realms of career, finances, relationships, growth, fun, and lifestyle?
Finances - Don't ask me I'm a student.Relationships - 10 10 10s across the boardGrowth - 7, I'm getting thereFun - Either a 2 or a 8, never at the same time. I'm either cry laughing or in a corner rocking in stress.Lifestyle - 8, leaving room for it to get better.

What is something I can do to fix the area of my life that's most lagging?
For my finances, next year I'm going to track my spending, meal plan better, and do more socialist at home. For fun, I want to be more spontaneous, balance my uni work better, and keep fighting my phobia of sickness so I can go out more. 

If there's a gap between where I am now and where I want to be, what's one step I can take now to close that gap?
In the next year of my life I'm going to give 100% effort to everything I do. I'm going to take opportunities and give them my full attention and put my whole heart into them.

I also want to regain confidence in my writing, and be more motivated to write more including on this blog.

Stay tuned to see if I actually manage any of these things!

I had a realisation moment. Here I am, just turned 19, with a book, a magazine, a blog, an editorial job, an amazing group of friends and an amazing family that are proud of me, excelling at uni etc etc. I'm worth so much. I've got too much going for me to be defeated and crushed in this period of my life, this time when I should feel nothing but intense self-respect and almost adoration for myself. I watched in 5 times, and today I feel great. I spent time with empowering women, I started reading a new book, I ate cake. I feel good. Today I draw a line. I am worthy.



As I sat with a coffee waiting for a friend, I wrote out some aims for this new year, my 19th year;



1. work to be more aware of myself, and the impact I have on the lives of my family and friends.

I will learn to recognise how my emotions affect others, and work to be a positive influence, a support, and make them feel how they make me feel.

2. become more politically engaged and active.

There's an election coming up, and I will talk about it.

3. continue to seek opportunity to grow and make friends.

I will not stagnate.

4. allow myself space to change.

I will not put myself in situation that don't allow or encourage change or growth. I will allow myself to grow into myself and change, but only positively.

5. forgive myself for bad days.

I'm allowed to have bad days. I'm allowed to feel negative emotions and process them, but I'll try to push through them and limit their affect on others.

6. learn to think 'what if' less.

aka. learn to let the past be the past. I won't beat myself up for things I did or didn't do, or over-analyse the way I reacted to situation.

7. read more.

Vital. GROW. THAT. MIND.

8. ask people how they are more.

Be more attentive of my friends and family, and don't ask it as a gateway to talk about my situations.

9. celebrate myself and my achievements despite other things going on - make room for myself.

Regardless of what is going on, or what other things I'm dealing with. If I do well, or achieve something, I will celebrate myself. I will always leave room for self-care and self-appreciation and not seek by affirmation in others.

10. make more physical things.

Use my hands more. Make more of my achievements into physical, hold-able things as there's nothing quite like it.

11. love, love, love - but also learn when to walk away.

I will not become guarded or cold, or lose my softness. But I will not put myself in a situation where my whole being is invested in another, I will learn when to know when to move on and how to pull myself away.

Today I feel good, I feel empowered. I will enter my 19th year like this, as I intend to carry on.

built countless friendships.
walked away from toxic friends.
completed college
did myself proud with revision
learnt how high my pain tolerance is


survived surgery and recovery while dealing with a sickness phobia.
made my teachers and family proud.
cut my own hair X2


achieved AAAA at A-Level and got into uni, exceeding my offer.
watched my sister graduate.
began going out, and got bored of going out.



released 2 issues of KILORAN, edited and organised completely solo.
launched KILORAN blog.
re-branded the magazine.
learnt to cope with my phobia alone.
walked away from things for the sake of myself.
bought myself flowers.


moved to Sheffield.
learnt to live independently.
met new people and gained confidence from it.
became a better friend.


had an article published within a month of moving.
found power in being alone.
was forgiving - of myself, and others.


started writing for The Tab, became fashion editor 4 months later.
wrote more than I ever have.
realised bad habits and changed them.
grew into myself - goals, tastes, clothes.

had a monologue I wrote used in a film.
started viewing writing as a job.
built bonds from my passions and goals.

got my first tattoo.
learnt to start celebrating myself, and being proud of my achievements.
learnt self-care, self-motivation, self-organisation.

makin a wish

gifts, cards and a smoothie

first listen of the new amber run album (its so good)

birthday face

Top-Primark

Birthday shopping with gal pals

Bestest lil rachelle

pixie's diner- a 60s dream

Necklace-Topshop a little gift to myself

 Yesterday was my 17th birthday and I just wanted to share some photos as I had a lovely day of gifts, shopping and my first driving lesson! Feeling so happy and grateful for everyone around me! Thank you to the greatest gal pals ever Rachelle and Holly for making my day so so lovely and for making me laugh a lot. You should definitely check out Holly's blog (link HERE) as she my style icon and her blog is amazing! Also a big thank you and hugs to the people that wished me happy birthday on twitter and obviously to my family for my lovely gifts!

(I got a selfie stick, it's the greatest thing ever)