My birthdays used to make me feel really, really sad. They made me think about how much time I’d wasted, how much youth I’d wasted, how I could have spent my time growing up doing other things. Now I realize that Growing Up was the Main Thing. I don’t see the past year as wasted time anymore; I know that doing life, with all its inconveniences and banalities and questions and tasks, both major and mundane and big and small, was part of the journey that brought me to where I am today. So now, for the first time, I’m looking back on my birthday not with sadness or regret, but with a sense of satisfaction and pride, grace for my past self, love for my current self, and excitement for the person I am becoming.
Perhaps I didn’t like birthdays before because they reminded me that I was alive and getting older and having to live with myself through it all– and I didn’t like my life all that much, or I didn’t like where I was in my life, or maybe I just didn’t like myself. But this year is different. This year feels like a celebration. This year, my birthday is approaching and all I can think is, Look how far I’ve come! And I’m really damn grateful, and I’m really damn proud.
This year, my birthday is approaching and all I can think is, Look how far I’ve come! And I’m really damn grateful, and I’m really damn proud.
It takes a lot of self esteem to say, “I don’t think this year was a waste. I think this year brought me closer to who I’m supposed to be– and I like that person so far.”
(The reason for this post is this: I was going to make an Instagram post of funny little embarrassing pictures I have of myself from the past year. The caption idea was from a song I really love by the Wild Reeds called “Capable.” The lyric I was going to steal was:
“He said, ‘You’re awfully young for twenty-one;
‘You’ve got some work to do.”
(the lyric continues, “You bite your pencil harder than / you were planning to”).
I thought, “What a perfect way to caption such funny, embarrassing pictures of myself!” Because it’s important to laugh at yourself instead of loathing yourself, and I liked the idea of posting this at the tail end of being twenty-one years old because even as an “old” 21 year old about to turn 22, I still feel like I’ve got lots of work to do.
But as I started to pick out pictures and add to the instagram caption, I found myself (as always) wanting to say so much more than I reasonably could or should on instagram, so I thought (as I often do), “this needs to go on the blog instead.”
So what you’ll find below are some of my reflections on the past year of being 21. It’s mostly just here for me, but if you’re interested, you are welcome to read. That’s why it’s posted here on the internet, after all).
Here are some of the pictures, all previously unposted on any other social media accounts:
And here is the would-be caption but instead long reflection on the past year of Growing Up:
Looking at these pictures is crazy to me because some of these memories feel like they happened so much more than a year ago. I really don’t look or feel the same way I did at my 21st birthday 51 weeks ago. I’d just made a huge mess of my relationships and had no idea how such a personal disaster could fit into the bigger picture. I was getting recruited for grad school with no clue where I’d be for my 22nd birthday. And yet, here I am today, a week away from turning 22 and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt* that I am Where I’m Supposed to Be right now, and that everything worked out the way that it should. From sharing extended work commitments with newfound friends to short, 1-hour-long conversations with strangers on airplanes: I met and bonded with all the right people at all the right times, and my life is forever changed for the better by them.
The saying “when it rains it pours” is so true when it comes to formative experiences; I’m convinced that the years with the highest highs also come along with the lowest lows. I quit cross country after running distance for 7 years— a decision that was tricky and painful— and then broke 2 school records in track. I lost some close, long-time friendships this past year and then was surprised to find them replaced with even better ones in somehow even less time. I faced some of my worst self loathing in the past year, yet never felt more secure in my handful of close friendships. Through it all, I found out that life can be complicated, that good people can do bad things, that regret is a potent notion, but also that accountability, forgiveness, and reconciliation are possible too.
In the past year I found a new favorite artist, Noah Kahan, and he has this lyric that smacks me in the chest every time:
“It only feels real
after raining and
hearts only heal
after breaking.”
-“Glue Myself Shut”
It hits so hard because it’s true. I don’t have to dig up years in the past; the year I was 21 encompassed enough of it already.
In the past 12 months, I’ve begun to work to heal from trauma that happened months ago, and also years ago. I’ve begun to own up and apologize for the traumas I’ve caused to other people. I’ve begun to be tough even while being kind, and above all, in year 21 I’ve begun to be courageous, courageous, courageous.
The last picture in the gallery was taken exactly a year ago. I don’t know what I was crying about but I have a few reasonable guesses. I know year 22 will have its tears too. I’m beginning to accept that tears are a part of life— and in fact I seem to cry more and more at each passing year. I cry when I am happy, and sad, and angry, and in pain, when I see something cute, when I don’t understand but I’m trying. Perhaps I feel more deeply with each passing year. The notion of that is scary, but I have no choice but to continue to get older, so with that, I commit to continuing to grow. Wisdom is hard won, but it’s worth the fight- and as I get older, I will continue to find and fight. Here’s to year 22— tears and growing pains and embarrassment and unadulterated ecstatic joy, and all. Thank you thank you thank you: Year 21.
*FOOTNOTE: I know I said in my last post 6 months ago that certainty might never exist, but perhaps what’s really the case is that indefinite certainty will never exist. Perhaps we go in ebbs and flows of confidence, seasons where we have blessed certainty and seasons where we just have/get to follow and trust the path we’re on. Right now is a certain season. I can’t think of any other place in the world right now where I’d rather be.
The More the Marianer 