Since I was a little girl, I remember people telling me that your twenties are a quintessential part of your life. They are messy, vivacious and heartbreaking. I am only three weeks into mine, and I am simultaneously the most grounded and most lost I have ever been.
On Monday, I feel unstoppable — my outfit fierce, my in-class comments insightful, my heart and mind open to every opportunity. On Wednesday, I feel invisible — just one woman in an endless sea of light, creativity and brilliance. On Friday, I feel anxious — doubting a future I do not even hold keys to, fearing decisions I have yet to make. And by Sunday, I know it will all begin again.
So how are we supposed to survive our twenties, this so-called decade of self-discovery and mental gymnastics? Well, I turned 20 on Sept. 2, so we are going to figure this out together. Drawing from the wisdom, regrets and painfully raw experiences of the past two decades of my life, I created a guide. A guide to your twenties from a girl who has not yet lived through them herself. When I am 29, standing at the end of this chapter of my life, these are the guidelines I hope to have lived by.
- Remember you are always bigger than what is making you feel small. An immature partner, a failed quiz, a painful conversation. Your power lies in the security and assurance you have in yourself. You have gotten through 100% of the horrible, stressful and unknown moments of your life. Use that as a reminder when life inevitably happens, because it will — we are in our twenties!
- Dance. Like really dance. I have found life is always better on the dance floor. It is not required to be lit by club lights and sticky with spilled drinks. It can be in your dorm room, singing into a hairbrush, or arms tangled and cheeks flushed as you dance with your girls down city streets. Bottom line: Dance it out.
- Feel the fear and do it anyway. Time will pass regardless, so you might as well dare to use it, dare to challenge it, dare to conquer it. What a thrill it is to defy your biological instincts, to escape beyond the boundaries of your mind’s limits. In the span of 12 months, I have left my hometown of 7,000 people, lived and studied in London, traveled to 15 countries and moved to Boston, a new and unfamiliar city. Fear danced on the tip of my tongue with every decision, fighting to bite the courage seeping from within me. Checkmate. It didn’t win.
- Love loudly. No one wants a nonchalant friend, girlfriend or daughter. Release yourself from the fear of being seen as too much. Hug your best friend extra tight and surprise her with her favorite matcha just because. Tell your mom she is doing an amazing job, because she definitely needs to hear it. Fill your cup by loving others boldly. We need more love!
- Protect your peace like it is worth $1 million. Boundaries are your best friend. Your time is too precious to waste on immature relationships, petty drama and unnecessary headaches. Do not disrespect yourself like that. Cut yourself free from the tethers of your teenage people-pleasing ways. You do not owe everyone access. Cash in your peace and stay zen.
- Learn to be alone and like it. Sit in silence and find clarity in your solitude. Feel the breeze on your soft arms, listen to your chest gently sighing, find a comfortable place between each passing thought. Question, discover and nurture yourself. Because, truly, you can only meet people as deeply as you have met yourself.
- Stop shrinking yourself to places you have outgrown. Relinquish the insecurities you created at 14, the bad habits you developed at 16 and the soul-crushing anxiety you felt at 18. You have not worked this hard just to slink back into those dark corners of your mind when life gets real. Your ability to move through hardship with grace, humility and self-compassion is paramount. You owe it to yourself.
- Leave your hometown. Get on that plane, bus or train and get out. Do not sacrifice the unfamiliarity of experience for the security of comfort. A fresh start is waiting for you down every street and at every subway stop.
- Be messy. Fall in love, once or twice or five times. Experience heartbreak and eat Ben & Jerry’s while watching “Sex and the City” reruns. Re-learn to love yourself because you were too mean to your body at 16. Quit your stable job to become a zip line instructor in Costa Rica. Talk to strangers on the subway and discover the best hidden gem in the city. Do karaoke even though you are definitely tone-deaf. Be human. It is the most beautifully, painfully, blissfully messy thing to be.
So here’s to our twenties. A decade I am just beginning — eagerly, blindly, boldly. I hope, on the eve of Sept. 2, 2036, I can attest to a decade of dancing, courage, love, peace, clarity, change and chaotic bliss. I hope we all can, too.