Twenty years of Grazia: as good a time as any to contemplate the latest 20 years of my life, how I got to here from there, what I’ve learned – and what I’d tell 20-years-younger me. For example... You do not need to wash your hair every day. It’s a fearful waste of time. Of course you’ll never regret not having kids! If in doubt, eat an egg. Or have a bath. Or a nap: you’re probably just hungry, cold, tired, possibly all three.
You do not owe difficult people friendship. It’s not payback to the universe because you feel like you’re happier or more together, or less messed up than they are. Nor is it some sort of check and balance against you becoming an a***hole because you only entertain friendships with not- difficult people. Difficult people will only exhaust you over time, wear you to the bone emotionally, and then? You ghost them and they hate you, and this helps no one.
There’s no such thing as an ‘investment buy’. By all means, semi-bankrupt yourself on brand new Acne – just don’t kid yourself you’re ‘going to wear it forever!’ You aren’t, you won’t, you don’t.
There’s your gut instinct, which is solid, then there’s the highly persuasive but profoundly sabotaging urges issued by the darkest, most damaged, most distant reaches of your psyche. Learning to tell the difference is the Whole Thing.
You currently think of the internet as a glorified phone directory but, as it turns out, it’s a bit more than that. It’ll try to destroy you, several times over. Hold your nerve. You survive.
Contrary to your dearly held convictions about yourself, you actually adore exercise. (But not yoga. Don’t worry about yoga. Even though you think you should be good at yoga. You shouldn’t and you aren’t.) Very excited for you for Game Of Thrones. And Taylor Swift. Obviously you get Botox. And therapy.
And a dog. (She’ll be lying on your lap as you write, 20 years from now. You’ll be typing with one hand because her head is heavy and sleepy across your other arm and you wouldn’t dream of disturbing her. You won’t remember being this happy.)
Right now, despite everything you tell yourself every day, you’re faking confidence. Give it a couple of decades: actual true confidence will suffuse every square inch of you, like good wine or oxygen or The Force. Bronzer is actually pretty cool. Where writing’s concerned: you’re just getting started. In 20 years’ time, my love, you will still just be getting started.