13 Things in 30 Years

I love this time of year. It's the time when a few minutes each day stretch themselves into extra sunlight. When summer ideas creep into my mind, no longer seeming like it's too far ahead to daydream. When the Valentine's Day candy is put on 70% clearance, the remaining amount of heart-shaped confections a sweet reminder that I wasn't the only single person this year. Shades of pink and red are traded in for green and glittery gold. A St. Patrick's Day baby, I embrace the ridiculous Irish pun shirts and clover decorations everywhere. Ah yes, this is the place and moment. I'm ready.

When I turned 25, I started keeping a list of things I learned the year before. As I approach another birthday, I thought I would write about thirteen greatest lessons I learned in thirty years. Here they are:

1) It's your own race to run.

Growing up, I was never one for lists or timelines. Sure, M*A*S*H was fun and all, but you would never catch me saying "I want to be married by 24 and have a kid by 28" at any  point in my life. An imaginative child, to this day I am unsure why I shut down that side of my brain. Sometimes, I look back at these light conversations with friends and wonder if my noncommitment to commitment made me "normal." Now, we live in a time where we see other bucket lists come to life every day with a click, swipe, or like. 

This is a difficult thing for me to grasp sometimes. When describing this feeling to someone else, explaining that the bright screen of my phone could sometimes make me feel a darkness of "when will it be my turn," their response was simple. 

"Who said their race was yours to run?" 

I guess I did. It isn't fair to myself to compare a completely different timeline with my own. It's easier said than done, but attempting to be present and doing the things that make you happy can make this self-imposed sting a little less venomous. 

2) You're not going to wear the bridesmaid dress again (no, no one gets them hemmed after). But these are the friendships you're lucky to carry with you.

I find myself enjoying staying busy, and this includes spending time with my group of friends. Whether I've known them for 27 years or less than five, I have been the recipient of some great love from these people. For my friends I've known over a decade, it is so moving to see them as they accomplish things we never knew were in the cards when we first met. 

I've been extra fortunate to see my friends in loving relationships and becoming mothers. I laugh hearing their children say "Hi Lena!" as we sit down for brunch or walk the park. I've traded in the bridesmaid dress for a lifetime of support, and they've shown up similarly. For example, the friend who went into labor on the day of my master's graduation but still got me a card. The friend who I pathetically called on FaceTime from a man's apartment to walk me through cooking a simple pasta dish. Or the friend last month that knew I was going through a rough time, only to show up unprompted on my porch with a basket of various items to make me smile. I was so honored to know they thought of me, and that respect is mutual as we navigate our busy, different lives. We're all running our own race, and we're all cheering each other on. That has meant more to me than reflecting over where I thought I "should be" by now.

3) If you don't set the boundaries, no one will do it for you.

In my early and mid twenties, I used to get such a thrill in finding out how much I could get done in a day. I overcommitted myself in my profession and performance. I associated achievement with how much I could complete. This created a vicious cycle that made me very unhappy. I remember returning home to my small apartment in rural Ohio after several days of being at work for 12+ hours. Drained with a need to catch up on sleep, I became an introverted form of myself in an attempt to recover. It wasn't normal, and I needed to stop acting like it was.

Here's the thing: when you agree to everything, and you do the job well, no one is going to stop you. Opportunities will come at a quicker pace. It's very easy to get wrapped up in the flattery of being thought of for a certain gig or feeling like you have to do something to please others.

Now, boundaries look like purposely choosing an appointment time that makes me rush out of the school building at my contract time, or deleting my email app off of my phone on the weekends. Today, in particular, it looks like me finishing thie blog before I jump into some light work and errands. It's important to remember that having boundaries doesn't make you a less efficient employee or person. It's important to remember the asks and the flattery on a job well done will always be apart of life. However, it cannot mean everything to you at the sacrifice of your health and wellness.

4) It really isn't that serious.

A few weeks back, I was being a decent citizen and dropping off my recycling. The bins had a new location on a one-way street. As I backed up to turn around, I hit one of the green rectangles [insert many jokes from friends on the various things I've hit with my car here]. Unironically, my wallet instantly also thinking green when it came to the damage. The next thought was an immature one: my dad cannot find out about this.

Yes, you're reading this right. This was a few weeks ago, not 12 years ago. I was so concerned about what my dad would say. However, when my dad assessed the damage after dropping off some items to me, he said "you know...I've done a lot of different things in my life. This really isn't anything much to worry about." Sometimes, we allow our thoughts to take hold of a situation and make it larger than a hot air balloon. "What if I tried this?" or "How did I let myself do that?" is an easy trap to make yourself believe everyone views the situation like you and they too think you should have done something different.

5) Write about/speak on your gratitude as often as you can.

It makes my day easier. Putting on a calming song before I go to bed and thinking about the things in my life that make it better, or jotting three things down in my (unorganized) notes app when I start my day has made all the difference in my belief that I am truly lucky.

6) Silence is an answer.

This one is pretty self-explanatory, but took me the longest to grasp. Use it for yourself, or know when to move on when someone else does.

7) Watch the way you speak to yourself. An impressionable mind is listening.

I was lucky to be raised in an environment with little to no negative self-talk. In speaking with others, I know this isn't the norm. However, negative thoughts and self-talk sometimes pop up when I try something on in a dressing room or I worry about how I sounded in conversation. When I get caught in this cycle, I try to remember who I was as a child, and how she would react to the moment. It's not fair to her, or to me, to be this critical.

Think of all the magnificent things the human brain is capable of. Of all the thoughts you could have in a single day, why let any of them be cruel to yourself?

8) Stop unnecessary apologies.

Being from the Midwest, "sorry" seems to be engraved in my brain as a top twenty term of use in my daily life. On a deeper level than trying to get past someone at the grocery store, I've found myself saying "sorry" for things I have no control over or reasonable asks that do not require an apology in any universe. Over the years, I've used it as a filler word.

I also say "sorry" when I need to: when I've crossed a boundary or made someone feel bad. However, using this language constantly negates the authenticity of an actual apology. I've stopped apologizing for things that make me feel good, for crying when I feel something too deeply, or just existing in a certain moment.

9) There's no reward...

-in sticking around something that isn't meant for you.

-trying your best to stay friendly with someone who broke your heart, or doesn't bring you peace.

-continuing to keep up with something you've genuinely lost interest in.

Learn to walk away. You're not at some greater level of bravery for staying.

10) Keep putting yourself out there.

Even when it's hard. Even when you want to give up. Even when the last experience was awful. I have to believe that somewhere, a better option exists. That's what fuels me to keep going for the things I want, like a committed partnership.

11) If everyone made decisions and reacted like you did, life would be boring. Don't expect them to.

Another hard one to grasp. In my life, I've found myself getting angry or sad that I didn't like someone else's reaction to something. Sensitive since birth, it's been difficult for me to not take things personally: to ask for advice on how I should have done something differently; assuming that someone's opinion that disagreed with mine has something to do with me. Differing opinions and reactions are simply a facet of life, and you'd be surprised how often someone else's reaction has little to do with you. So breathe, and start working on how you present yourself and your ideas to the world. There's better weight in that.

12) If you can, buy the plane ticket.

A fun thing I've been trying to do since for three years is go to new states and cities. In 2021, it was North Carolina, Wyoming, Colorado, and Georgia. In 2022, it was Arizona. These trips were filled with shiny moments I hope to remember forever, like wedding celebrations, seeing my college best friend's lifestyle that makes me so proud of her, and visiting family I normally wouldn't have the chance to. 

Since my brother's passing, beach skies and sunsets have always held a special place in my heart. In North Carolina, I got to see a sky so beautiful it took me back to his celebration of life. 

This month, I get to see California for the first time. I hope to continue this luxury until I have seen most of the US.

13) Little you would be proud.

Last year, while cleaning out old folders, I found my entry-level music theory exam. I got two questions right on that page, a sure sign at any other college that remedial theory was necessary (or in some cases, no college acceptance at all). The truth is, I didn't know how to read music until college and sought a degree that prefers some sort of prior experience. My only  experience came in my voice and confidence instilled in me by a wonderful vocal coach. Other than that, I was starting on a blank canvas.

It was tough, but I graduated in four years. Now, I teach kids who largely don't have access to private lessons or coaching sessions. They're on their own blank canvas. I feel such a sense of pride knowing I can shape that to any extent, to make them see music as something they can potentially enjoy long after they leave my classroom. When they say they can't read music, I tell them I didn't know how until college. And when I taught recorder, I told my students I failed it when I was their age (my college professor calls me the worst player she's ever seen, and I own that). However, I am good at something: being resilient. In the last few years, I tried my best to lean into what I bring to the table. The reminder that teaching is so much more than content has been helpful. 

I like to think that the sixteen year old girl who wrote a paper on music education in English class, the nine year old who walked into a voice lesson for the first time, and the five year old who would sing for family all the time would be proud of this. With one or more decisions in your life, there is a past self from before that would really enjoy what you're doing. That matters more than any test score or another's opinion.

May the next year be filled with doing things that make all those versions of myself proud. May we all find a little more luck this year.