On to the next decade.
30. I can’t believe I’m here.
I remember so clearly the start of the last decade of my life. Let’s take a stroll down memory lane as I walk you through my twenties.
When I turned 20, I had just gotten my drivers license, basking in my new found freedom in the old Toyota Previa that had no AC and bad brakes. My mom had just been released from the hospital after being admitted for acute bronchitis. I decided I wasn’t going to be the bad daughter I’d been all my life anymore—I was going to change and love my parents as best as I could.
A few months after I turned 21, my mom passed away in a car accident. I spent nights dreaming of her and waking to the nightmare that she was gone. But I decided to let this pain fuel my faith rather than my fear or anger. I kept going, stronger than I ever was before.
At 22, I was the skinniest I had ever been (under 100lbs)...and the saddest I’d ever been. I learned that having faith in God’s plan doesn’t mean the pain goes away, or that you won’t ever feel hurt or weak again. But it’s through the pain that we truly grow stronger.
At 23, I was a junior in college, compromising my standards to just feel loved by someone else.
At 24, I had my undergrad degree, my first big accomplishment since my mom passed. I was engaged. Then a few months later, I wasn’t. But I had made such good friends in college who helped me through it all and who continue to do so to this day.
I was 25 when I went on a mission trip to Southeast Asia where I met the craziest, most wonderful kids and learned that the key to connecting with others is to go at it with a curious, child-like heart.
At 26, I met a guy and spent the next year and a half in blinded bliss with him, thinking I would marry him someday. 27 was full of him, loving him, wanting him to be the one God had planned for me all along.
Then at 28, I was alone again. I was heartbroken and sad and angry. So I did what heartbroken people do—I picked up the pieces and moved away. And I kept going, as best as I could.
At 29, I’m living in a new city in the middle of a pandemic. But I’m thankful that I’m at a job I love, and I’m part of a team that genuinely cares about me. Finding friends in your late twenties is difficult for an introvert like me but I’m learning to be okay with that. I’m quite sure I do better alone anyway but it does get lonely sometimes.
And now I’m here at 30. The insecurities from my past still linger. I don’t have my life all together and tied neatly in a bow. I’m not where I thought I’d be a decade ago. But I’m here. I’m present and alive and growing. And that’s the best thing that anyone can be—present, alive, growing.
Cheers to 30, on to the next decade of my life. 🥂














