(originally published Feb 2 2015)
This time last year was my last first day of school. Which is weird, because that super significant event is like…old news now.
On a purely superficial level, I’ve changed a tonne. To begin with my hair is short. I started the year with curls that reached past the bottom of my ribs, now they reach my shoulders on a good day. I wear less black now, and my eyeliner is inspired by Billy Joe Armstrong far less frequently (not that I’m ashamed of that period in my life, I wouldn’t say it’s even over yet). Also I finally seem to have lost the fabulous sock tan I acquired thanks to school socks and long commutes.
My jump cuts got better, my grades rose and plummeted, climbed onwards and upwards, only to fall again (and so on and so forth). My internet presence got noticed by people in the actual real life, face to face world (and it was not as bad as I anticipated). I wrote a what felt like a million and a half words in English papers. I decided once and for all that I was a feminist. I stopped the whole ‘I cannot leave the house without foundation on my face’ thing that had plagued me since 15 and I have a crazy amount of spare time in the morning thanks to that.
I lost the people that I’d kind of assumed would be my friends, and made better ones. The tweets and messages from dear internet people made life bearable and always made me smile.
I blacked out all my social media profiles at 1am, cried, gave up on life, cried a bit more, couldn’t cry any more but wanted to, hid myself away, made stupid decisions and scared the hell out of close friends. So yeah, I’m sorry about that. (I say that somewhat flippantly, but I mean it so so much)
Despite all this, I did some of the most amazing (and maybe a bit nerdy) things. I went to two conventions as Hermione, got 100+ subscribers, got recognized from Youtube, went to a crazy scary audition against people considerably older than me, met some lovely friends, and watched Doctor Who in cinemas. (Thanks Scott!)
So, here we are, on the first day of school, but I’m not going. I didn’t get into university because doors closed, I still haven’t moved out, but I made it. Hey, year ago Brii, you made it. The concept of having a future still scares me, and to be honest, things aren’t ‘better’, but there might just be a light out there, and I’m going to stick around a little longer to find it.
Year ago Brii, you did pretty well, all things considered. You passed English, despite the panic attacks during essays, you did four large oil paintings (what were you thinking, you crazy woman), you vlogged the whole year, leaned Ukulele, and graduated. Yeah.
britts amelia. 