Taylor Swift


Reflecting on the past year with some assistance from T. Swizzle. 

This is not me. I have not walked on any train tracks over the past year.

This is my last week of being 22.

Birthdays always seem to dawn on me somewhat unexpectedly, which is awkward seeing as they are an annual thing… the occurring-on-the-same-day-every-year kind of annual.


I have to start by saying that I was really honoured that a song was written just for me to coincide with my twenty second year of existence. #soblessed #thankstaylor #omgitsallaboutme

Taylor, where would I have been without your words to guide me through the past year? Where, Taylor? Where?!

I guess being on the cusp of 23 means that I’m definitely a twenty-something now – my ‘early twenties’ are slipping away. Brace yourself, the ‘early-mid twenties’ are coming… Yes, I talk to myself like I live in Westeros. Oh, Alex.

After nearly three whole years of being in my twenties, here’s my limited understanding of what being a twenty-something is about:

  • Being either fairly or very broke.
  • Being somewhat discontent with life as an adult (thanks for filling me with optimism, pop culture).
  • Alcohol (consumption).
  • One part youthful optimism to one part growing cynicism.
  • Being a bit lost.
  • Flitting back and forth between living in and out of your family home.
  • Travel. As much travel as possible.
  • Change – both as a person and in the paths that you choose.
  • Self-doubt.
  • Questions.
  • Identity carving and creating.
  • Doing stupid things that you can only really get away with in your twenties.
  • Real adult relationships.
  • Real adult problems.
  • Relishing every moment before you have major life-long commitments (see: spouse, children).
  • Desperately trying to get your shit together… and in the meantime, maintaining the facade that you do…

So, if that’s what being in your twenties is about, then I guess I’m giving it a fair crack… well, I’m attempting to give it a fair crack… which has to count for something, right?

In writing this post I’ve studied the lyrics of Taylor’s poptastic hit in closer detail. And I’m genuinely surprised to report back that I think she actually knows more about being 22 than I previously thought. That sounded mean and as though Taylor is an airhead with no life experience – which was not intended – I just feel that her life is quite different to mine, seeing as I didn’t win a Grammy when I was 22… Ahh and moving on.

Upon a tad more reflection on my part, to say that my experience of being 22 was of being “happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time” wouldn’t actually be too far off. Well, in the sense that it was a year of contrasting elements.

My year was…
A struggle
Full of “face palm” moments
Littered with unhealthy habits

It was filled with both yearning and contentment. It had some pretty terrible patches, paired with some pretty great moments, too. Despite it all, I find it comforting that I feel that I’m growing as a person and that I know myself better with every passing year. Hopefully I’m also becoming a better version of myself. This is debatable. My parents would argue that I am not. #thedisappointingchild

Honestly, I would’ve liked more out of my year; to be able to say that 22 was a BIG YEAR – a turning point (to who knows what), a time I could look back on and say that that was when something brilliant/awesome/life-changing began. However, it just felt like another year. And I have to say that that mentality scares me. I’m meant to be treasuring my twenties, not just letting them fly by flippantly. 

Ugh. I think I’m doing my twenties wrong.

Well, that sentence was really poorly structured, Alex, so yes, I would agree with your sentiments. 

See what I said about contrasts? The way I feel about something can change in the time it takes me to write a blog post.

Well, despite there being a fair chunk of change on my horizon, at least I feel much more peaceful than I did a year ago. My guess is that “the future” is going to be a significant theme in this coming year seeing as it’s my penultimate year at uni and I’m about to throw myself out into the big kid world. So, it’s also a year of preparation, exploring options, creating opportunities and deciphering dreams.

But did I?? Am I?? Thanks. Now I’m stressing myself out again. Just what I needed.


It’s miserable and magical
Oh yeahhhhh
Tonight’s the night when we forget about the heartbreaks
It’s time…

I don’t know about you but I’m feeling 22
Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you
You don’t know about me but I’ll bet you want to
Everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we’re 22

It feels like one of those nights
We ditch the whole scene
It feels like one of those nights

We won’t be sleeping
It feels like one of those nights
You look like bad news, I gotta have you


Now I just have to figure out what “dancing like we’re 22” looks like.

Wish me luck.

Alex x


an accidental protégé.

“I guess you didn’t care and I guess I liked that.”
– T. Swizzle

At a house party last weekend I realised that, although I regularly bemoan the state of my love life, I actually actively seek out drama. I do, don’t I? Ok. That was a rhetorical question, thanks.

So, I was chatting to a lovely chick whom I had just met at this house party. During the conversation she asked me about my love life. My response? “Tumultuous as ever… in fact, I think I have a love/hate relationship with the fact that my love life is tumultuous. Yes, I think I actually like it being like this.”

I don’t know whether that’s more of a light bulb or face palm moment. Either way I think it calls for just a little despair.

In fact, I think my love life sometimes feels as turbulent as that of our favourite blonde American twenty-something over-achieving girl-next-door pop sensation. That’s Taylor Swift, not Miley, by the way. This is not a good thing.

Take, for example, a recent gent whom I knew was Not A Good Idea. But what happened? Oh, we let some drama unfurl itself. Add some 80s music in the background and people in the bar legitimately giving us looks as we danced like the idiots that we have proven ourselves to be.

And then I called him to clarify that we were never ever going to get back together in any capacity. Like, ever. Taylor, you truly are an inspiration. But no response… which served for me getting over the whole debacle very swiftly (Oh, Alex) and it proved that ending things before they got any messier was a good move.

I, of course, could have avoided all of this drama by saying no to begin with. Cos let’s not kid ourselves, I knew he was trouble when he walked in. So, shame on me.

Ok. Enough Taylor, Alex. Enough! Sorry. That’s ok. Just don’t do it again, ok? Sad face.

In the meantime, I have decided that as I shall realistically be single for another year or so, I may as well relish it rather than try to fight it. I am only 22, after all. And everything will be alright as long as we keep dancing like we’re 22, right?

Wait. What??!  I said to stop the Taylor Swift references!!!!


But now that I think about it, Taylor Swift’s infiltration into my brain could explain, at least in part, the tumultuous state of the love life, couldn’t it? That was a rhetorical question, too. Perhaps that blonde American twenty-something over-achieving girl-next-door pop sensation isn’t such a good role model after all..

Alex x


She may be a terrible love life role model, but at least she can rock a red lip.