thirty-seven lessons learned
I’ve learned that I’m more selfish than previously assumed, and that I’m teetering dangerously close to cranky old woman in compression socks status.
I’ve learned that categorically, Ramen is overrated, even if the entire world is trying to convince me otherwise.
I’ve learned that I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to.
I’ve also learned that hard things aren’t always that hard. Sometimes they are just big or scary or tedious. And sometimes they are only hard because that’s the name I’ve given them.
I’ve learned that living in the present, while easy in concept, is remarkably difficult in the moment, but that sometimes chewing gum helps.
I’ve learned that being married can be incredibly difficult. (And in conclusion, I take back every judgmental comment I’ve ever made from the outside of a marriage relationship looking in.)
I’ve learned that hormonal changes are very real and that the female body is a complicated, terrifying, and beautiful thing to be a part of.
I’ve learned that the way I talk to myself truly does matter.
I’ve learned that I’m officially too old to stand at shows for longer than approximately one hour, no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise.
I’ve learned that I need specific moments of silence in my routine. Without it, I feel flushed with the weight of life in ways that can become unhealthy and unhelpful.
I’ve learned that I’m best when I have consistent, kind, loving community.
I’ve learned that I can, in fact, officiate a wedding, and that at the end of said wedding, my dear friends can and actually will be wedded. THE POWER.
I’ve learned that I don’t like Chardonnay.
I’ve learned that I still don’t like ketchup.
I’ve learned that it’s okay to change my mind.
I’ve learned that being married is one of the kindest gifts that I’ve been given, if only because it’s shown me what it means to love and be loved unconditionally.
I’ve learned that it is, in fact, possible to miss one’s flight with a two hour layover. But only if a glass of wine is involved.
I’ve learned that saying something is going to happen isn’t enough. Interestingly, you actually have to do the said thing.
I’ve learned that I’m still really terrible at making decisions about where I want to eat dinner.
I’ve learned sweeping up dog hair will be the way in which I will measure my hours until I die. The end.
I’ve learned that I’m still really terrible at going to church.
I’ve learned that sometimes going to bed angry is exactly the right course of action because with the morning also comes something called perspective.
I’ve learned that I maybe do actually like Taylor Swift? (That Lover album really got me, guys.)
I’ve learned that traveling to see friends is always worth the price of admission.
I’ve learned that inertia is important. If I can take one step in the right direction, the rest of me usually follows.
I’ve learned that excessively hot weather for longer than four months makes me want to lash out and kick shins.
I’ve learned to treat house plants like pets — routine feeding and watering is the key to their joy.
I’ve learned that I’m a sucker for any culinary competition reality show. The more dramatic, the better.
I’ve learned that beauty truly does lie in the mundane, and that even if I can’t see it specifically, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
I’ve learned that being a fan of college football continues to be a thrilling and frustrating effort.
I’ve learned that making the bed first thing in the morning helps me to feel approximately 67% better about the rest of my day.
I’ve learned that I’m an Enneagram 4 but also maybe an Enneagram 9 and so like most people, I am nothing and everything, all at the same time. (Which, in turn, feels like a very Enneagram 4 thing to say?)
I’ve learned that when all else fails, taking a walk usually helps.
I’ve learned that something is better than nothing, even if that something isn’t as perfect as I’d hoped.
I’ve learned that 3 mg of melatonin is just what the doctor ordered.
I’ve learned that sometimes emojis can convey what words truly can’t.
Finally, I’ve learned that while your twenties are for lamenting the world around you, your thirties are for making fun of yourself in your twenties. And I should know. I’ve had a lot of practice. (I can’t wait to see what my forties will be for.)