Things I Wish She Knew

One of my favorite things about turning another year older is taking a little time to reflect on the year that brought me to this place. This year that place is thirty-two. And while every year feels some sort of significant, this year I keep thinking of the girl I was ten years ago, the girl I was fifteen years ago, at twenty-two, at seventeen, and how grateful I am not to be her anymore. Not that she wasn't pretty cool, don't get me wrong, but one of the luckiest things about aging is the opportunity for growth, and that punk teenager, that girl I was at twenty-two, she grew. I've said before that I became myself over the course of my twenties, and that's true, but this week I've been thinking a lot about the versions of me that I've grown through, and I think, for my birthday retrospective this year, I'd like to share a few of the things that I wish I could tell her, all of those hers. (In list-form, as is my birthday custom). So:

Things I Wish She Knew:

Your mom wants so much good for you; listen to her.

I know that hearing this would make the teenage version of me roll her eyeballs to meet the very back of her head. But she didn't ever truly understand how much my mother loves her. How, while sometimes she is admittedly blunt, she wants (has always wanted) the very best for me. She is one of the very best people I know, and she loves fiercely. I wish my younger self had understood that just a little more than she did. But we know now, and I think that counts for something.

Don't hold your hand to a hot stove and think it's going to stop burning.

If something brings you more pain than peace, remember that you are in charge of your situation. You get to choose the pieces that make up your life. Sometimes those pieces mean hard work, and sometimes it means letting go of things you thought you could fix. You have to take care of yourself first sometimes - if it's burning you, it's probably time to pull your hand back.

It's okay to burn bridges.

Not all of the people that come into your life are going to stay. Not all of those people are going to be good for you, and it is okay to let those people go. Sometimes it's going to be hard or painful; it might even hurt your feelings, but you're going to need to move forward without people sometimes. You don't need to be cruel or unkind to them, but it is okay to wish them the best and leave them behind you.

Don't dye your hair blonde. 

Just trust me; I know it feels like a fun choice, but there will come a day when you'll wish there weren't pictures. (There absolutely are). It's probably not the worst choice you'll ever make, but it's not the best one!

There is a forest beyond these trees.

Ten, even fifteen years ago, I remember thinking, like most young people probably do, that there was nothing more important than right now. That I was somehow going to run out of time to find exactly what I was meant for. The older I get, the longer I live, I realize that's not even a little bit true. Life gets bigger; it gets messier and more complicated, but there isn't a finish line to get to. There isn't a date by which, if you don't have all of the things that you want, you've failed. I've said before that happiness is a choice, and if you choose to focus on and appreciate the things that you have, the gifts you've been given, you'll attract more of it to you. Be the best version of the you that exists right now. Grow, and those beautiful things that you're looking for will come to you.

Tell the people you love that you love them as much as you can.

The people who love you are such a gift. You are so lucky to love them; tell them often.

The things you put on the internet are on the internet.

Just a thought: maybe avoid putting the emotional teenage poetry on a platform that anyone can access. You may at some point regret re-living that fifteen-year-old broken heart. (Not because it's tough; we bounced back pretty handily from that one), but because, frankly, by the time you're thirty, it's kind of embarrassing.

You can love him to pieces, but they're still his pieces. 

I think every human on the planet that has been brave enough to love has experienced heartache. And it's hard - it's such a hard thing to feel, sometimes even to survive. I've lived through a handful of heartbroken versions of me, and I think the most important lesson that those heartbreaks will teach you, is that just because you love someone does not mean that they are ready or willing or capable of loving you back. And that doesn't mean don't love them. It just means that you can't control the way that other people love you, and you have to find the loves that give you what you need, what you desire, what you deserve. Because you can love him to pieces, honey, but they're still his pieces, and you can't make any one of them love you back. I guess the lesson here too - is to love yourself enough not to beg for love from others. The ones whose love is worth it (and they're out there - I promise), they'll give it over on their own.

But also - you can do it alone.

I think, when we're young, people forget to tell us that our happiness can't depend on other people. We paint beautiful pictures of what we plan our lives to be, but it is so important to create, to build, for yourself - by yourself. I've spent a lot of my adult life developing a sense of independence. And while I have a wonderful, loving support system, I am so grateful to have had to grow up as an independent person. And don't get me wrong - there is such a beauty in marrying your high school sweetheart or finding your soulmate at twenty-one, but I am so lucky to have created the person I am by leaning on me. It's made me strong. It's made me ready for and content to have a life that is filled with whatever comes. Teach yourself how to be happy with you, nomatter who or what comes next.

Trust God.

There will be times when this is hard. There will be days when you feel like you're standing in the middle of an open field screaming for a path. I know it doesn't feel like there is one, but I promise there's a plan, even in the moments you can't see. Someday it will make sense. Someday you will be grateful for those struggles. Someday you will understand how much they're teaching you. Keep praying. Good things are coming, I promise.

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Spending my birthday appreciating the lovely things in my life is the very best thing about facing another year. Last year I sat at my kitchen table and wrote down things from the previous year that had brought me joy. This year has been filled with many things: struggles, joys, moments of frustration, moments of peace, opportunity, promise. And just like every year, I'm so grateful for the lessons. My goal for the coming year is much the same: to be mindful of the gifts I've been given, to appreciate the loves and the adventures this year will undoubtedly bring, and to learn a few things. I don't think I'll need the breath of preparation to tackle thirty-two.