A couple of days ago I turned 21. Twenty one, can we just take a moment to let that sink in. TWENTY ONE. And to be completely honest I probably need more than just a moment, because it is a bit weird.
It’s weird because I thought I would have my whole life figured out by now, but I haven’t. I don’t know what or IF I even want to study. Do I even know what I want to be when I grow up? A part of me wants to become a policewoman, but then again maybe a hairdresser and a dolphin trainer, but then again, I still am dreaming of becoming a princess. I have got time to figure things out, which I am in the middle of doing, and what’s so good about it is that I don’t have to rush things, at least not for another couple of years. Although 10 year old Frida would probably panic a bit, realising she only would have another 2 years to get pregnant, married and get her shit together. All I know for sure now, 10 years later is that a) I don’t want to have babies or get married by 2019 and b) I don’t want to live in Sweden. That could of course change, probably a billion times or so, but I’m pretty sure about this. I have lived in London for almost 2 years now and the things I miss, apart from my fam (obvious shot there), are not that many. I can get hold on most of the things I miss in the Scandi/Swedish shops here PLUS Tesco have started selling gifflar. Not that I’ve ever been a massive fan of them, but I mean, IF I ever get a craving they’re there for £1.50. And you do learn to love other things as well. I’ll probably survive wherever I end up, depends on if they start selling quality sparkling water all over the world, life without Loka is a bit sad, I must admit.
Anyhow, my year was 20 started off with a brunch with my 3 best friends plus my mini bestie and ended with me being surprised by my family at Las Iguanas, where we sat having some casual b-day drinks. If you know me, you also know that it is extremely hard to keep secrets and surprises from me, we’re talking an absolute extreme level of not being able to keep secrets from me. But somehow both Emma and my family managed to do so. And honestly, I couldn’t be happier they did.
Everything that happened from my birthday to the beginning of September is a big blur, both in a good and a bad way, because a lot, and I really do mean a lot, of things happened. My bestie from back home visited and I got to show her the town I’ve fallen in love with all over again and again, I met Amanda for the first time, whom ended up being one of my closest friends ever, Emma and I set up a budget and made a perfect plan of how to survive the London life, started looking at flats, applied for a billion jobs, went back to Sweden for a week, threw myself into bringing comfort and safety to my two wonderful girls who lost their dad, got a paper plane tattoo, got myself a part time job at GBK, discovered my favourite place in London, made a flower crown from expensive flowers and celebrated midsummer in Hyde Park with other drunk Swedes, fell off a bike, broke two phones, had a meltdown, Emma moved back home, got my hair done at the salon I’ve dreamt of for months, had another week in Sweden, laughed so much at the airport with my mum that the security guards even giggled and then I went back home, home to London.
I didn’t really have a good moment to breathe or think, everything just happened and I was not prepared to both feel everything and nothing at the same time. I just tried to live normal, even though everything was a big mess. But at the same time I learned so many things about myself, my strengths and weaknesses.
Autumn and winter went by surprisingly quickly, because I had lots of things planned. I had to keep myself busy, because I didn't want my feelings to catch me, to tell me to slow the fuck down and actually take a moment to breathe. I had my family coming over for London Cocktail Week, my cousin came over with a ton of Loka and lots of energy and then all of a sudden it was December. The month where I pretty much spent my time working, singing and doing lots of performances as well as going to Sweden for almost three weeks. Squeezed all the people I had longed to squeeze, met amazing new people and celebrated New Years with some of the most wonderful people on earth, all wearing PJ’s.
Mum came back with me for a week in London with me, giggling, crying with laughter and just having an amazing time, trying to making me wiser and make me think and accept my feelings and thoughts. I’ve come closer to friends here and friends in Sweden, which I’m so incredibly happy for.
The past couple months have left me with plenty of time to think and feel, two of the things I’m still not the biggest fan of doing. But at the same time it has been such an important thing for me, even though I still overthink things a fucking ton. Twenty year olds do, not all of them, but I do. And I think I’ve been doing so just to protect myself. I don’t want to be scared or hurt, and especially not have people knowing and noticing that I am. But feelings are meant to be felt, all of them. It is okay to be happy, anxious, nervous, frustrated, weak, in love and everything else. They are just feelings, trying to say that your body is working, you’re feeling something and you shouldn’t be afraid. And right now, I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid because I have everything I need right now. There’s no need of worrying about tomorrow or next week, because we don’t know what’s gonna happen. Even though you may overthink, which is more than okay btw (even though it may drive your friends crazy), you might just have to let it go and live for what is actually happening now, not in a week or two.
What started with a surprise ended with me being a tad more home in myself. It absolutely took me a while to accept, to accept the fact that I really do like myself for who I am, and not for someone society would like me to be. I’ve learned to like my body, how it looks, and I am finally happy with it, I feel more confident now than I did on the 14th of April 2016. I have found something I really enjoy doing six days a week, something I have dedicated early mornings and late nights to: the gym. I bloody love going there, it has become my happy-place, somewhere I feel safe and don’t have to care about anything else than what I am doing there and then. I have gained so much more confidence, but not nearly as much as I probably need, because I am still so incredibly insecure about things, not that it actually matters, but at the same time, no one is perfect. It’s absolutely okay to not be 100% confident and happy att all times, because I’m not, which is also something I have mastered this year: getting my emotions and feelings under control, which hasn’t been the easiest. I mean, I’m still trying to tame my anxiety, which is not easy. But I’m slowly getting there. And although I’m not there yet, I still feel like home.
Because I’m home, even though I’m not. Home is a safe place, a place where you can let all your emotions out, ugly cry if you really need to, laugh so much you get a tummy ache, sing out loud in the shower, be carefree and feel loved. It’s a place to just be exactly who you are, even if that’s dreaming about becoming a princess. Home is so much more than a place to live, and that is also why I chose to say goodbye to 20 with a new tattoo. Home, I’m finally here.