Walking through the front door, the past 25 years just fade away.
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The building is the same, the loud, ear-blasting music is the same, the bar, the people and the dark walls are all the same. In fact the only change in the past quarter of a century is me.
I was 17 years old the first time I walked in to a nightclub in Launceston. Yes – I was under age and way too naive to realise I was way out of my depth.
But lucky I did, because that was the night I met my best friend, who has remained my dearest girlfriend throughout my adult life.
I can even remember what we were both wearing. Me - a liberty print dress my mother had made me for work which I teamed with flat plain pump shoes; my new friend sported white and green polka dots with a matching head band.
We must have looked so out of place, but it was exciting to be in what seemed like such a grown up world.
Now 25 years later, my best friend and I were walking back into the very same club.
This time a little more suitably dressed and accompanying my daughter, my friend’s god daughter, on her 18th birthday celebration.
At least now we could actually afford to pay for the entry fee and buy a drink.
We took to the dance floor like not a day had passed since our very first night club experience, tearing it up with both my son and daughter right there with us.
The music was so loud it didn’t even matter what song was playing. Strangely enough, despite being surrounded by 18-year-olds, we didn’t feel out of place at all.
We forgot for a moment we were mothers who were responsible and reliable, and now quite conservative (according to our kids). We just let loose.
By the early hours of the morning however, our age did catch up with us.
With aching feet, sweat pouring down our backs unattractively, and a headache creeping in, we pulled up stumps and headed for home.
But what a night. Our beautiful girl had turned 18. We had both played a part in raising her and we had now both played a part in helping her celebrate adulthood.
The next morning my daughter jumped out of bed as fresh as a daisy, looking for eggs and bacon and planning what she would do that day.
My morning was a little different.
Even my ugg boots were hurting my bruised and battered feet.
I could still hear the thumping music ringing in my ears and the taste of a late night pizza lingered in my mouth.
Altogether not a good start to the day, but the end of a magical night where age meant nothing, and only family and long-lasting friendship mattered.