Getting Older (and Hopefully Prettier!)

Without disclosing too much information into my oh-so-private life, I'm getting ready to hit another milestone in my glorious teenage years next month and grow a little bit older, with perhaps a three inch growth spurt on the cards along with the devilish chocolate cake which I've spent the majority of my free time dreaming about! Yes, birthdays may not provoke a hair-raising scream of delightment or floods of sticky jam-flavoured kisses amongst my family as an overly eager gesture of appreciation for a Playboy-wannabe Bratz doll as they once did many years ago (taking a journey back to my days of looking up to a scantily clad Barbie and engaging in my dead-and-buried fascination in worms is not what I wish to do when I'm trying to prove my ever-so-grand maturity to the rest of the world), but, as a fun-loving teenager, who could deny themselves the once-a-year opportunity to be immersed in the golden glory of being treated like a king or queen and do whatever they wish, despite the fact that buying half of the stock in Tiffany's doesn't count?

Although I may no longer hold extravagant parties (well, as lavish as you could expect at a kids playground in the middle of a field) featuring a Disney Princess-themed birthday cakes, celebrating a year of growing up is not an occasion which gives a signal for my recently-eaten bowl of Shreddies to make a slushy appearance: I've probably got around ten years or so before the thought of saying goodbye to a younger and more enviable age fills me with pint loads of dread, so singing with joy about enduring yet another torrential year of dealing with spots miles bumpier than pot holes and mood swings a lot wilder than my mischievous kitten's behaviour still brings plenty of excitement for myself, which, considering that out-of-control hormones and red-faced breakouts are almost certain to affect me for a few more years yet, astonishes me a little bit. But who wishes to dwell upon greasy roots and unshaved hairs on one of the two days of the year when you are guaranteed to receive a pile of neatly wrapped presents? Ripping open a CD which I'd been listening to Spotify for a year or so means more to me than pouting at my angry-looking complexion in the mirror for the past half hour!

Anyway, I can't always help but feel a bit more optimistic than usual as the countdown towards reaching my birthday begins as a foul headache from staying up all night on New Year's Eve pounds through my aching body (to my lack of amusement, I happen to share my birthday with no other than womanizing Harry Styles, which nowadays highlights the alluring idea of going abroad whilst Directioners camp out of the curly-haired teen's house); perhaps a bout of sadness regarding the near end of Christmas stirs up hidden emotions within myself that I have to place my attention on my birthday, which surely seems far better than working myself up into a panic on the basis that the irresistible scent of mince pies won't be enticing me into the kitchen for another long twelve months. Yet for the amount of elation which my birthday usually generates - bearing in mind that the sole thing I enjoy about the summer is licking a half-melting chocolate Cornetto, I feel terribly inclined to express my gratitude that I entered the world during the freezing, though heatwave-free winter - my brains are all but sucked dry of ideas when it comes to coming up for present-related ideas, a reason of which I fall prey to moments of pining the past where all except a couple of gifts were kept top-secret until the very last minute because I would so easily avoid getting frustrated with myself and beginning to have ice-cold feet as my birthday rapidly crept upon me.

That's a major problem regarding getting a delicious taste of freedom, do you not believe - with the amount of space we are generously given, confusion meddles with our minds and taints our thoughts as to the means of how we use our resources correctly, which eventually results in an extreme backlash or outcry against losing once-passionate appreciation for which many people would undertake any task in order to be in such a seemingly desirable position. Sure, I may not be running the country and turning a blind eye to what the population wish for me to do (it would hardly take a moment to instantly realize to whom I'm referring, if the current state of affairs hasn't so much as affected you), but the independence for which I used to dream about can assume the role as a heavy burden from time to time - would I be incorrect to declare that a large majority of teenagers feel incapable of reaching a conclusive decision without doubt ebbing away at the back of their minds?

Whether it is buying a book or picking up tickets for a singer of a particular genre, reaching an all-final decision is absolutely essential to growing older and handed more control related to our priorities; along with studying hard in lessons and getting accustomed to the often difficult world surrounding ourselves, it does sometimes feel as though the world is piling us with a hefty amount of homework, half of which isn't even handed over by our teachers! A birthday is a day to celebrate one's birth, I ought to remember when an hour of gift-searching on Amazon has left me in a disastrous state of frustration - as younger generations typically place a higher emphasis upon their interests and their lives in general, we cannot help but form a tight bubble within ourselves and follow beliefs that we know who we truly are at heart, yet who are we kidding? If I was given a pile of recipes with the task of picking out a cake for my birthday, I would probably be knocked for two if I successfully managed to choose just one cake within a short while; considering that my sweet tooth has the remarkable ability to extending its taste to wonderful flavours and beyond, the most probable conclusion would be to pick everything or drawl at the mouth-watering sight of a creamy chocolate fudge cake until the sun set and a full moon rose behind my captivated form. Even though it may not initially occur to you, birthdays are no exception to being sucked into the ever irritating frustration and falling foul as a victim to indecisiveness, a lesson which many are bound to learn as we get older (and hopefully prettier!).

But as soon as I've caught sight of a golden-looking light at the end of the pitch black tunnel, I can return to daydreaming about residing on a throne which wouldn't look too out of place at Buckingham Palace whilst my family would treat me as the pearl earring-clad queen which I would quite fancy to be. Oh well, some daydreams don't stand a hint of a chance of becoming a fully-fledged reality, but at least I needn't look far to get a slice (or two, if my puppy-eyed look is worthy of an Oscar winner!) of cake and a collection of chart-topping CDs as I hit a new and highly influential age!