Nothing reminds you more of becoming older than getting a letter than the DVLA writing to you saying, ‘Oh hey girl, now you’re entering your late twenties, you better update your driving licence photo’
I won’t lie; I may have done a little cry. It only seems like yesterday when I first got my provisional driving licence and took the photographs in the little photobooth hungover in Birmingham New Street station. Now being told to change it; I won’t lie it was a nice creeping reminder that girl is getting old.
It was another reminder that I’m getting closer and closer to 30 and yet again reminding me that I am still bimbling my way through adult life. Still reminding me that I don’t know if it will ever click and if I will ever think I’ve got this. It’s pretty scary and it’s that constant reminder that, actually, I’m in my late 20’s now. 27 is the year I get married, and maybe possibly have a mortgage. It’s the year where everything on paper says I’m a freaking grown up.