I turn 30 tomorrow, and I am beyond ready.
A lot of people dread welcoming in a new decade, but I’m excited to bid adieu to my twenties.
I started them bright eyed and full of expectations – graduating, getting my first job, moving to my first apartment. And I end them having learned many lessons – Losing my mother. Purchasing my first home. Coming out. Traveling. Being a landlord. Speaking up. Almost losing my father. Getting married. Starting a business.
What a gloriously messy and awakening experience.
This is the first time I’m mentally aware of how young I actually am, that every day I have is literally the youngest I’ll ever be. Sure, my body might be changing. I notice the extra crinkles appearing around my eyes, my sore joints, the stingy weight hanging around my upper thighs, my two-day hangovers.
But I could very well have two more lifetimes on top of the one I’ve already experienced.
That’s fucking scary. But it’s also fucking powerful. I spent the last decade putting way too much pressure on myself, thinking I needed to have everything figured out and not realizing that now is the perfect time to take as many risks as I possibly can.
I actually feel more lost and unsure of where I’m headed than ever before, yet I’m confident I’ll get there. Here are three of the biggest lessons I’m bringing with me on that journey:
(1) It’s ok to not know what you want
I thought I’d have it figured out by now. That I’d be settled into a life that made sense, full of passion and purpose.
But the truth is, I’ve been three or four different people in the last decade, some of which I no longer recognize.
My life has been a constant process of self-discovery: figuring out what I truly want only after having experienced what I don’t want. What I don’t want in relationships. What I don’t want in a career. Even what I don’t want in myself.
In our twenties, I think we all expect to be blissfully ignorant. We know we can be indecisive because we have plenty of time to figure things out.
I’ve recently made a conscious effort to choose myself and my happiness instead of living according to other people’s expectations. The more I do, the more I understand myself.
And by better understanding what doesn’t bring me joy and fulfillment, I can better focus on what does.
“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”
(2) You can do anything, but not everything
To become the person I want, I need to give up what doesn’t feed or nurture my soul, from relationships to possessions to my comfort level.
I over-exert myself in so many areas of my life. I expect a lot from myself and feel the pressure of other people’s expectations. I’m an Aries, so I tend to “ram through” literally everything. And while that keeps me busy, it doesn’t necessarily keep me disciplined, productive, or mindful.
And I’m over making excuses for myself, and for other people.
I need to clear out my mental clutter to make space for and amplify the intentions that get me closer to my goals. I only want to spend my time and energy on the people and experiences that will have me looking back one day, marveling at my life.
“i am her.
ruled by the planet of passion, her story is one of action, direction + movement.
she does not wait on the voice of permission to be smart, strong or beautiful. she knows that only she gets to write the rules on what it means to be a force in this world.
a flash of light. a one way street. bow + arrow. she is the stereo turned up. a new mountain to climb. pushing herself and others outside of comfort zones.
with bravery coursing through her veins, power pulsing at the curves of her hips, she takes bold leaps + believes she will succeed in them.
head. and heart. she is a wildfire. a train at full speed. she is not scared to work for her growth, so she welcomes the unknown. knowing it’s here, where anything is possible, she crafts her best life — the one of her dreams.”
(3) There’s very little you have control over.
For many of us, getting older is a reminder of our mortality. I often remind myself that my mom first got diagnosed with terminal brain cancer at 38 and now find myself asking questions like: what if I only had 8 years left?
Or 8 months?
Or 8 days?
Or 8 hours?
When I audit what I think about most, I realize how easy it is to get caught up in shit that really doesn’t matter. Whatever days I am lucky enough to get, I have to make them count.
I can plan all I want for the future, but every time I think I have life figured out, it throws me a curveball – a learning experience that expands my strength and resiliency; a reminder that life is fleeting.
The truth is, there’s so much that I can’t know, and there’s something to be said for surrendering control and simply trusting that I’ll arrive exactly where I’m meant to be.
“Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.
Almost everything–all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure–these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important.
Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”
