Journal… another year older

I turn 23 in 3 days. Which means I have been alive for 23 years. 
But it is only in the past 18 months that I have discovered things I truly love. 
Like art, and photos and tea and walks and runs and folk music, and sitting and reading, and travelling and writing…i could probably go on for hours 
23 years in which I have lived in 3 locations and moved house more times that I can count on my fingers.
23 years over which I have learnt that God is real, life is hard and beautiful, and perfectly complicated all at the same time.

23 years and I am just discovering how to see the world.

One of my best friends said to me the other day 
‘I just realised how artistic you are…I have never really seen you like that before’ 
then the very next day she said 
‘writing is a big thing for you, maybe you just need to write it out’ 
In the space of 2 days she summed up two things I have spent the past year or so discovering about myself. It made me smile that someone knows me better than I do. 
I thought I would hate turning older again, but 22 was better than 21 which was better than 20… so I am hopeful and grateful for 23 and everything it will bring. 
Thankful for my family, my friends, my God, my city, my dreams.
Hopeful that turning 23 means more discovery and more life and more joy. 
More adventures, more writing, more photos, more travelling. 
I am still a baby, 23 years is not long when you look at the age of the earth. 
and I may be having a grown up dinner party to celebrate 23 but the very next day I am having a Harry Potter sleepover…

and I think I shall celebrate this birthday with writing something permanently on my body. 

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