Today’s post is a little unusual. I turned 30 yesterday and last night felt inspired to write a little “so long” letter to my twenties. What an intense decade it was. I’m sure everyone who has been through them feels me on this!
So what I’m sharing below is what I wrote last night. It’s the only thing I could think of sharing on the blog today. I hope you enjoy it!
My teens rolled into my twenties with a case of ennui. I remember when I was in middle school and a teacher marked that I was “indifferent” on my report card.
My mom was so angry. “You are NOT indifferent.”
I was, and it got worse.
But 20 was the age I first tried meditating. I felt something inside me light up. A new path emerged for me.
After spending a semester off from college in Jersey, I re enrolled at Millersville as an English major. I didn’t want to teach anymore, so I dropped the education piece of the degree I was pursuing.
I remember looking at my class options for my English degree and feeling so excited.
“This feels like me.” I remember saying to myself. It felt right, and good.
But unfortunately I went back to teaching. So many people asking me, “What are you gonna do with an English degree?” freaked me out.
My dad joked that my two greatest arguments were why I needed to leave college and why I had to go back.
I think the opposing options of everything are my greatest arguments.
My twenties have shown me how divided and opposing my desires often are.
I remember when I was twenty, spending the summer in New Brunswick with two of my greatest friends, one new, one from high school. We spent so many lazy, hazy, humid nights on the front porch. Smoking, drinking, laughing so hard.
I spent a month without work or school. We went to the beach whenever we felt like it. It was so hard for me to think about going back to a life of structure. Job. School. Homework. Ugh.
I did end up getting a job, and liking it. The world of restaurant work was so much fun. Lots of cash, not a lot of responsibility. A lot of parties to go to and a lot of people who made me laugh.
This led to me meeting my husband, and my “PA family”, as I used to think of them (and still do even though I don’t see them nearly as much). This was definitely the most carefree fun I’d ever had in my life.
Now that I am 30 I am only looking back at my twenties with a softness in my heart. It makes me smile. And it breaks me apart too.
It breaks me apart when I get a text from a childhood friend saying “Happy Mother’s Day and Birthday, Old Friend”, and he hasn’t met my baby yet.
It breaks me apart that I have friends that I love and family that I need so far away as I’ve gone through my ages and phases this past decade.
It’s taken me far away from where I started, and also right back to who I’ve always been. A person who wants a lot of things that contradict one another. I want freedom. I want my daughter (I’ve learned that parenthood may be the opposite of freedom), and a family.
I’m tired of worrying about money but I want the perfect house and I want vacations. I want beautiful clothes. I need to travel.
I suppose my twenties have shown me my duality. I am so very happy to be at home tonight, with my daughter and husband sleeping just a few feet away from me. A part of me would love to dress up and go out and party my heart out. And when I did do that years ago, a big part of me desperately wanted a good man and hearth. I dreamed about it often. And I so wanted a baby to take care of. I really wanted to feel something as intense as a mother’s love for her baby (which I’ve learned, is the opposite of ennui).
Dear twenties, you have treated me so well. I bow at your feet for all you’re brought and taught me, for how you’ve cleansed me, and for all the good you’ve let me discover in myself.
I have nothing but excitement about going into this new decade.
Life is exciting. Love feels perfect. Everything is as it should be.
Thank you thank you thank you,