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I love my birthday. There’s nothing better than having a day all about you. Not only do I love my birthday, I love everyone else's. It’s such a great way to celebrate the people you love.  As I’ve grown up and met more people, my love for birthdays has not changed, however I have realised that not everyone loves them as much as I do. Besides the presents and all the attention, birthdays really just come down to becoming a year older. And as soon as you get past 18, you really deep each and every year you gain. 

 

Throughout my teenage years I just couldn’t wait to be 18. It’s your first proper landmark birthday where you can really just make as much fuss as your heart desires. If I had it my way I would have had a massive party with as many little details as possible. Food trucks, donut walls, cakes with my face on, open bar, champagne fountain…the list goes on. Alas, I am not as rich as the Kardashians so I had to settle with clubbing with my friends. I still had an enjoyable time however, it wasn’t as extravagant and big as I had always thought it would be. I felt that turning 18 would change my life over night and I would instantly be an adult. When in reality, it was the biggest anti climax of my life. Nothing changes apart from the fact you can buy alcohol legally and if you get in trouble your parents don’t have to find out. Now obviously this is your teenage dreams coming to life; no need for fake IDs and you can do whatever you want without your parents knowing. But when you take away the excitement of rule breaking, it suddenly becomes less appealing.

 

My 18th year went scarily quickly, I don’t know if it was because of corona or if that's just how life is now. I’m 19 already with only 11 months until I’m 20. 20 whole years old. A complete new decade of my life where I’ll probably have kids and get married, and yet I feel like I haven’t lived my teens to the fullest at all. Whenever I speak to older people about corona I always hear the same thing: “You guys are so unlucky to be this age during this.” And everytime I hear it, it annoys me even more than the last time. Half of my 18th year was spent inside, when I should have been partying, travelling and just having a good time. At this rate, I won’t go to a club again until I'm 27.

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