At 21...

By Lucy Harbron - 22:49

I live between Teesside and Sheffield.

My hair is bleach blonde and short, with a fringe that rarely does what I want it to do. I particularly like wearing it pinned back with cute clips.

My favourite things to wear are my mum's old jumpsuit, my snake print coat, and my pink and black baggy jumper. My favourite shoes are my heeled boots. On a night out I wear pink eyeshadow and polka dots.

My favourite books this year were After the Fall by Arthur Miller or The Philosophy of Andy Warhol.

My favourite films at the moment are mainly Marilyn Monroe films. Or the same couple of films I've watched on rotation for the past 4 years. To Do: keep lists of what I read and watch.

My favourite albums to sing in the shower are the Funny Girl soundtrack, the Waitress soundtrack. I listen almost exclusively to musical theatre at the minute. Or Ariana.

My favourite smell is the twilight body spray from Lush, or Palo Santo, or my mum cooking a Sunday roast.

My favourite thing is getting letters from friends.

I am in love with my friends, my flat, myself, Marilyn Monroe, and Edie Sedgwick.

I sleep in the middle of my bed, on my left side, with thunderstorm sounds playing quietly.

I repeat this mantra to myself; I relax, I let go. My life is in perfect flow.

I am trying to implement a habit of doing yoga daily, and drinking more water.

At the moment, I'm caught between the present and future, sat in a waiting room, tapping my feet. I've become particularly stressed about capturing myself; all the minor details about my personality, likes, dislike, what I've done, etc. I turned 21 yesterday, and I think I've become very aware that my life next year will be unrecognisable to now.

Fighting reflection has been impossible. My taurian heart forgets nothing and is never content; thinking back is a dangerous game. And while I could moan about the difficulties of the year, there's bigger fish to fry. My 20th year was the longest corridor, my 21st is through the doorway at the other end. So I'm trying to consider that more, capture the here-and-now more, daydream forward not back anymore.

I'd been calming myself with the doorway analogy for a while, trying to relieve the fear of change and trade it out for excitement, something I've never been good at. But I feel it. I feel like I stepped through and my year ahead looks vibrant and different and fucking exciting.

Within a month, I'll have finished uni. Within 3 months, I'll have graduated and be about to start my first job. I'll have been on holiday with my best friend. I'll have moved to another city. I'll be financially independent and stable. And that's within 3 months. I have 9 others left. I imagine them full of gigs, theatre trips, city breaks, friends, new places to brunch, new regular spots, new people to catch up with. While a question mark has terrified me before, I love this one, it looks so much more like an exclamation mark.

It is bittersweet knowing there's a transformation ahead. Sheffield has been an on-and-off again lover, moving back there for a final time to celebrate feels strange. On one hand, it feels the most welcoming its ever felt. I continue to sing the praises of living alone knowing that 21-year-old Lucy would be a lot different had I not found my little flat. I've never felt more at home in an adopted house, leaving it behind is the biggest sadness to come. But it's necessary to shrug off all the sadnesses of walking past scenes of past lives every day. When you never forget anything, a small city becomes crowded quickly. I'm excited to be able to stretch out again. 

I don't want to reflect on last year. I don't want to set myself goals for the year ahead. I want to float into it, relax into the knowledge that I put in the work and enjoy it for a while. For a while, I think I'll only consider now, knowing there's change afoot, waiting excitedly for it.

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