A Letter to 22

Everything I Did at Twenty Two

I’m 23 today. In fact, I already am. I’m sitting in Horfield Common with a latte with too much sugar in it. And I’m 23.

Twenty three.

My mouth needs to get used to how that feels. How the ‘we’ makes my mouth open wider, and the ‘ee’ makes me smile at the end. I’ve got it for a whole year. Better get used to it. 

22 was a weird one. I turned 22 during the year where everything seemed to go wrong. At home, away from my friends, working in a pub which definitely wasn’t the plan. Yet it wasn’t terrible. I went to the garden centre with my Mum, then we went for a golden hour walk in Hanbury (where my sister is soon getting married), and had a curry at my favourite restaurant. Hannah at work made me a cake. I sat and ate it with some colleagues. It was nice. 

22 saw me stop work at the Duncombe when COVID cases rose. I was feeling unfulfilled but it kept me out of the house and with people my age. Then I had to adapt. I had a boyfriend with over-the-phone company and support. Natalia and I watched movies over the internet. I zoomed with Becca and Justine and felt so close to them, and also so achingly far. 

Christmas came and I spent so long with my Grandma. Something that I know most 22 year olds don’t get. I know how privileged I am that I had that time with her. 

I got a job at 22. My first grad job, my first desk job, my first creatively fulfilling job. The first job where no one asked me what I was really wanting to do. The first job that made me feel proud. 

22 made me re-evaluate. What’s important to me? How much will I put up with? So I ended a three year relationship I suddenly felt trapped in. One I suddenly felt disrespected in. I stopped a future from happening that I realised I didn’t want. I chose me. 

22 brought a lot of change. My sister got engaged. Harry is brilliant and I love them together. I can’t wait to read what I wrote about them at their wedding. I can’t wait to be by her side while she marries her best friend.

I moved to Cardiff for a while to be with Natalia while she finished her degree. I fell in love with Pontcanna, and the other side of the Taf, and saw Cardiff in a new light. I saw myself as a do-er, a go-getter, someone who enjoys doing the washing up. I saw myself through Natalia’s eyes. I saw her with better ones, realistic ones, human ones. She is even more awe-inspiring than she was. 

I spent time with Connor. And I hope I repaired any damage I let slide. I hope he knows how much he means to me. How much I appreciate how he treats my best friend. How he treats me. I think we understand each other a little better now.

I moved to Bristol at 22. I spent time packing and sorting and seeing all of my things. A 22 year old lifetime all in objects. Then I crammed it all into my 2008 Ford Fiesta and drove them down the M6, and then the M5, and then the A38. I sleep 4 metres from one of my oldest, greatest friends. I have a home. A real one. One I can really breathe in. 

All at 22. Sitting here, in my new city which I’m still exploring, it feels like a lot. I have previously been so caught up by what I haven’t done. What didn’t happen. I hope I start appreciating all I do get done, all that does happen.

Here’s to 23, and everything that I’ll do.

Ellen Victoria

Instagram: @artawaytheworld

22/09/2021