I did in fact throw on a leopard silk slip dress to welcome in my twenties. The Birthday – a day which welcomes an unusual twenty-four hours of confidence yet equal measures of self-reflection. The latter I wholly indulge in; journal out, candles on, mind spilled out upon the pages. See, an at first hurried (perhaps even ironic) purchase of the leopard number soon developed into so much more. With me it is always more – a creature whose heart is pulled, driven by the details and intricacies of this life. The leopard was always going to be more than a dress.
With the giddiness of a new chapter laying itself out before me, I reflected upon my naïve teenage years and it struck me as to what memories stood gleaming, yearning to be remembered. Youth – a period of one’s life that is so wonderfully dappled with firsts. First loves, first losses, first experiences of grief – the works. I firmly believe that the youth so awe-inspiringly brave this period due to the untested nature of our being. I stand by the belief that the first sour taste of heartbreak as you watch your ‘boyfriend’ walk away as your little twelve-year old legs wobble from underneath you is a mighty teacher to us all. I have the memory of a bitter lunch break to thank for that. And in later years, days spent unravelled by nerves not wanting to go into school has only reminded me (and I choose that word carefully) that my bravery and capacity for growth is so much more. To my core, I learnt what I already knew – Saz these are the days which make you.
It is funny, the seasonal nature of our beings. Days spent learning and unlearning those closest to us. The once school bench is now a café on the corner of your road where you bump into your lost love on a casual Tuesday; we’ve all been there, thinking why (today of all days) do I have to see that messy haired love. The universe laughs as we ask the same, rehearsed questions: family, work, plans. All this superficiality as if you both don’t know full fact his grey hoodie is still laying on the right side of your bed. As if you both have forgotten you once cradled eachothers divine intricacies, burgled their secrets and savoured their scent. It is in these times, that standing in a café on a Tuesday, face to face, commenting on the weather as if they weren’t the storm that bought in months of rain in the first place. You go home, strip back the bed and decide right, time to get the hoodie, fold it and politely move it to the wardrobe. And that’s on self-growth.
The universality of youth – it binds us. One September night I found my brother sitting in my room and he just waited there, patiently until he asked my seventeen-year old self, ‘Saz have you watched the Mike Posner move on music video?’. If you have not yet seen this quite just yet, this is my homework from me to you.
It reminded me of what we innately know. It is okay, growth is not linear, seasons of our life come and go but sunshine always is present behind the clouds. That evening I soaked my emotions up in my purple hoodie (one that has been passed between my siblings’ cupboards) and now that purple hoodie I wear is my little symbol of strength. So, obviously I curl up with it in my bed each and every night – a comfort that has evolved and been ritualised.
See that video was the fundamental turning point that made me aware of the subtle joy that seeps into the background. I am older now and those youthful heartbreaks and misplaced words of love are now loud, promising, inspiring ‘I love you’s’ to my three gal flat mates as they hurry off out – late – for a 9am tutorial. Friendships that speak with such conviction as we recognise the beauty of love within all of us. I admire my friends with wonder, knowing at my core that if a stranger were to talk alone with one of them, just an hour would be enough to fall in love with them for a lifetime. Beautiful beings who have light in their eyes. It is the subtle love as we trade clothes, make cups of tea, share hugs after our long days. Perhaps, upon reflection it is the quiet respect of the emotional landscape of one another; the quiet respect of our emotional history. We all turn up as friends because we know our friendship is fundamental. To know that the jumper I borrowed to wear out was more than a jumper – it was me wearing my courageous flatmates confidence out because I needed a boost on that Monday morning march across the meadows. And the adrenaline of a dizzy youth as our familiar shoes are intercepted by the unknown air force kicked off in an anxious hurry - an adventure of potential love is in the flat. Months later we will be there nurturing the tests of love with friendship, joy, and a quiet confidence in knowing full well the pages of our lives are being scribbled, written, loved upon. A fact I thank every minute experience for. Life’s seasons turn but love is present in the constant people in your life that utter with a maternal certainty, ‘I love you, I am proud of you and you are worthy of more, more, more’ as if our naïve tongues have always moved with grace.
That is the adventure of youth and the simultaneous gift of a coming home to yourself type of love that it brings; it is loud, and shocking. It is a primal force that calls you back to curling up in your mother’s scarf (the one that smells just like her), wrapping up in the purple hoodie and borrowing a friend’s shirt to wear her bravery to face the ‘night out’. See when you see me welcoming in my twenties in a leopard slip, please know it is so much more than a dress. To me, it is an acknowledgment to the experiences which have led me here to the woman I am at present, and a conscious celebration of the woman I am becoming. One that loves intensely, feels instinctively and has learnt, that to say ‘I love you, I am proud of you and you are worthy’ every day is to wake up and fall asleep knowing, my being moves with grace. These are the glory days and I vow to welcome every ounce of life with an open heart – as always.
Sarah Dooley
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