How I Really Feel About Clubbing as a Millennial

Everybody longs for the day they turn eighteen, dress up and gather what friends they actually have that are in fact, legally allowed to enter a nightclub and drink until their heads are spinning. I once was that girl, but after completing my first year at university, I could not think of anything worse.

Okay, maybe I am being slightly dramatic (I’ve heard it’s one of my many qualities) and maybe a part of me, just a little part of me, does secretly enjoy a night out, getting somewhat drunk and praying to God I don’t make a fool of myself (which happens more often than not). But the truth is, for a majority of the time, I enjoy getting ready and enjoy listening to some bangers while playing drinking games (which I can now proudly participate in) with my closet friends. But once I enter the nightclub, I start sobering (if not blubbering) up and all I can think about is getting out of there and finding some greasy food to indulge in. Which, now is ruined by my gluten intolerance, so in reality, what is there to actually enjoy?

When I turned eighteen, I was one of the first (October baby life) out of my friends to hit the legal age to vote, serve on a jury, be sued, but most importantly for every millennial out there… buy alcohol and go out clubbing. Luckily for me, the group of friends I, back then used to hang out with, were already eighteen and I was the baby of the group. This meant, that I was the one to get messily drunk off of a couple double vodka Red Bulls and be hanging for the entire weekend, while I attempted to force a smile on my face as I served customers. The happily drunk version of me lasted, in fact, a few months, until I experienced my first heartbreak and thought it would be wise to go out the weekend after being broken up with (with my ex there as well). Yeah, probably one of the worst decisions I ever made, and after downing six bottles of own mixed vodka Red Bulls on the tube to Ministry of Sound, it is not surprising I was throwing up in Wetherspoons and sent on my way back home, in an Uber costing a pleasant fifty pound. But hey, you have to learn from your mistakes one day right? And at least now, I have an interesting story to tell my own children, one day when they, in fact, feel shitty about a drunken mistake.

Reflecting back, after this eventful night, I wanted to avoid clubbing at all costs and with emotions running high, I watched my friends as they enjoyed their nights out without a teardrop in sight. The one thing that kept me sane, was the thought that I would not be the friend that ruined a night out for them, because someone decided to drink a little too much. That spring, I started to enjoy going out with my friends again and it was the perfect time to book my first girls holiday, single and unemotional. The summer before starting university still to date is probably one of my favourites; I worked all summer but still got to enjoy the benefits of going out with my work friends.

Soon before I knew it, I was off to the University of Portsmouth to be one of their new freshers and clubbing was fun… for a while. The freshers week was all fun and games and now the memories of going out for a whole week straight, are in fact bittersweet. The runup to Christmas holidays left me feeling down and I was ready to drop out of the university, I had been praying all summer to get into, and transfer to another. I stuck it out and while now I couldn’t be happier I stayed, my clubbing experience has not been the same since. Yeah, I guess you have the overly hyped up Dirty Disco at Astoria on Tuesdays and Tiger Thursdays but when you can guess which song is next, due to the same playlist every single week, I am over it. I guess absence makes the heart grow fonder and within my two and a half weeks since returning to university, I have enjoyed my nights out. But it is nothing like the feeling you once got you first turned that long-awaited age. Nearly two years on from turning eighteen and I have finally come to terms with how I really feel about clubbing as a millennial. 

A bottle of wine, some cheesy tunes (you cannot beat the likes of Mambo No.5, Sk8r Boi and Teenage Dirtbag) and some friends who will join me (Xian, I knew I met you for a reason) in making an embarrassment of myself (far from the Ministry of Sound tragedy) and you have one happy Courtney. Add some pushing and shoving, annoyingly arrogant drunk girls and guys to the mix with some dead music and you have a tired Courtney, who just, in fact, wants her bed. Maybe, just maybe I am meant to occasionally go out for special occasions.

But until then, you can find me happily curled up on the sofa with my Indian takeaway.

Courtney Bekah x

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