Today, I celebrate my 30th trip around the sun. I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on my twenties over the past few months, in anticipation of this new decade of my life, and doing so has resulted in both incredible gratitude and great anxiety.
The other night, I unexpectedly broke down in tears when trying to explain to Jeremy why I’d been in such a funk lately. I admitted that I was fearful I’d hit my “prime” in my mid-twenties and that my life has kind of been rockily heading downhill ever since. That I’ve felt so far away from myself. He talked me through just how absurd of a worry that was, and reminded me of all the positive experiences and milestones, as well as personal growth, I’d experienced in this past year alone — and how much I have to look forward to in the years ahead.
As with any other birthday, I feel no different than yesterday, yet lightyears away from who I was a decade ago.
It’s easy to reflect on my late teens and twenties and romanticize them. Distance myself from who I was then. When I think of the girl I was at 21 and 25 and 27, I remember her as such a go-getter, full of motivation, passion, confidence, and a ridiculously positive view of the world and the future. I tend to block out the struggles I had with crippling anxiety and depression, self-doubt and degrading self-talk, toxic relationships, and indecisiveness about the future — negative traits that I so often continue to feel the weight of. What I’ve come to realize, though, is that I still carry all of those positive traits I had as a younger version of myself, too, even if they’ve evolved and look a little different with time and experience.
It’s funny, isn’t it, how detached we can feel from our younger selves. We often talk about how we’ve grown, about how we’ve become such different people (for better or for worse) with time. About how we hardly remember or recognize who we were as a teenager or a child. And while that’s certainly natural and healthy, so is accepting the fact that the hopes, dreams, interests, talents, beliefs, doubts, and fears we harbored, during what feels like a lifetime ago, still very likely reside inside us somewhere, whether on the surface or buried deep within. And that’s okay. These pieces of us that stick around are what make us unique — they’re the threads that connect our ever-evolving bodies and minds to our souls from one year to the next. They’re our core. We are always, always changing, and yet, we’re forever who we are.
That’s not to say we can’t work to improve ourselves — feeding the traits that bring us strength and happiness and starving those that bring us down. In fact, we should constantly be doing this as we grow. However, I think we all need to be a little more okay with embracing what feels like our worst attributes and acknowledging them when they arise. Letting them know that they can continue to stick around for the ride if they must, but that they don’t define us. And more importantly, we should refuse to let go of the positive, life-giving qualities inside us simply because we’re “too old”, “too busy”, “too changed.” Our younger selves have never really left us, after all.
Something I was challenged to do a couple of years ago was to write a letter to my teenage self and one to my ten-years-from-now self — a pep talk, if you will, to each. I highly recommend giving this a try, when you’re in need of some soul-searching, as it’s quite an eye-opening experience… one that helps you remember what really matters most to you, in addition to helping you see how far you’ve come and envision where you want to be.
So, I could focus on how “off” I’ve felt as I’ve neared this new age. About all the things that weren’t supposed to happen, the goals and timelines I never met, and the inner-battles I faced as a teen cropping up again. I never thought, at nearly 30-years-old, I’d be helping my divorcing parents move out of the only childhood home I’d ever known, mourning the death of a dear friend and inspiration to suicide, fearing the loss of multiple family members due to a host of unexpected illnesses and injuries, struggling to keep up with my home, finances, relationships, and other commitments, or battling multiple health issues. But that’s the thing about life, isn’t it? We can plan, plan, plan, but we can never really know what’s coming or how to prepare for it. We just have to live it. With grace, hope, and understanding.
Each of these struggles have brought with them a great deal of personal growth and strengthened me in more ways than I can count. And, of course, they were peppered in amongst several, several positive moments and events that I’m forever grateful for. It’s been a transformative period for me this past year, and I will, without a doubt, carry every lesson learned with me into this next chapter of my life.
My twenties gave me more than I could have asked for. I experienced the joys (and hardships) of the academic and social sides of university life. I lived and traveled abroad, and explored so many American cities in between. I went on dates. I got dumped. I fell in and out of love (or what I thought was love) a few times over. I finally found my soulmate. I moved apartments and houses more times than I can count. I bought a home. I adopted a dog. I had jobs I hated and jobs I loved. I unexpectedly landed in a long-term career in the wildest way possible. I voted for the first time, and again, and again. I cried tears of joy on November 4, 2008. I cried tears of sorrow on November 8, 2016. I learned how to bake, how to use a camera, how to speak Spanish, and how to garden. I wrote thousands upon thousands of words for school and for work and for pleasure. I got a tattoo. I got a nose ring. I faced my biggest fear and spoke publicly in offices and in classrooms and on stages. I made progress. I made mistakes. I laughed and cried and loved and learned. I met some amazing people along the way.
And as for my thirties? I’m planning on all of that, and then some. I’m throwing self-imposed timelines out the window and taking life as it comes. I’m dusting off my positive traits that I’ve missed so dearly recently and gently putting the negative ones on the bottom shelf. I’m saying “yes” to more, but won’t feel guilty for saying “no” when I need to. I’m learning brand new skills and sharpening up existing ones. I’m visiting new places, meeting new people, and creating new memories. But I’m not letting go of who I’ve been. That girl is the one who got me here, after all. I’ll continue to grow and evolve, but at the end of the day, and at the end of this decade, I’ll always be me.
Hello, 30. Let’s do this.
xo, Aly