It’s my 20th birthday. It feels like my 30th (it’s been a big month) but I’ve hit my second decade. My 20th lap around the sun. I’m no longer a teenager.
That’s flippin terrifying if you ask me. I remember my 18th birthday vividly. I got stupidly drunk with some close friends and went to my school leavers ball. It was a hell of a night (I also walked home from town at 3am which is so-not-Kasia of me). Despite hitting that all important ‘adult’ age, not much changed. I could legally buy alcohol, although I’m notorious for forgetting my ID everywhere I go, I could vote- well, that went down a treat lol, and I guess I left school and entered the world.
Heaps has happened since then, but I’m still hitting 2-0 like it’s some magical day that’s going to turn me into a better human, the best version of me. In reality I’m full of a hayfever infested cold and battling with creating content for when the summer holidays comes around.
So I’ve made a promise to myself. I want my 20th year to be my most successful yet. I don’t mean money, I don’t even mean ‘stuff’. I literally want to finish my 20th lap with absolutely adoration for myself. I want to love every single thing about me, and in the process, I want to love everything about the people around me too.
I’m choosing to pay attention to who claps when I win, I’m choosing to love people who make me feel like sunshine. I’ll decide for myself this year, what’s worth my heart and what’s not. And I know I’ll probably get it wrong, but then I’ll choose to forgive myself and learn from it.
Because you don’t have to love everyone, you don’t have to treat everyone like the stars, but you’ve got to be kind- to them, to their friends, but ultimately to yourself.
By December the 5th 2018, I’ll be my own kind of wonderful.