In less than 24 hours I can no longer say that I’m in my 20’s. My 20’s have been good to me. In a lot of ways I feel like the last ten years made up for the really shaky years of my youth. So much was accomplished during that time period, more than I can honestly say I ever dreamt was possible.
At 15, 16, 17, I laid on my four post bed in that mint green bedroom with the yellow comforter thinking about my life. I’ve never been one of those people that good things just happen to them. Everything I’ve ever done in my life I have had to work at. In high school I didn’t go on dates, had few friends, and never excelled at anything. I never made the honor roll, never got picked first for teams, or won any awards. People told me that I didn’t deserve more than that. In a lot of ways I was lonely. I just kind of grew to accept that was the way my life was going to be. I never thought a man could love me. I never thought that I’d have babies to call me “momma,” or a career and a beautiful home. This life I have now, was not a part of my plan.
Sure, I may not have always chosen the straight path, or even the easy path, but I’m thankful to have walked through it. The good times with family and friends, and the dark times of depression and anxiety too. That path got me here.
I think one thing that we don’t express enough is that as we we grow older we grow in… into the ourselves. We become more enveloped in our confidence, our potential. In some ways I’m happy that I am who I am now, raw confidence and vulnerability and all. More-so than I think I could be had I always had everything. My peak has yet to come! Ha ha.
Had I known at 15 that at 30 I would grow to not only survive but thrive. Had I known at 17 that I would succeed, that I would go on to do much, much more than that teacher ever said I could. Had I known at 18 that Texas would be where I met my husband, birthed my children, and in just a few years it would all be worth those tears. Had I known at 19 that the boy who called me worthless was wrong, and at 30 his piercing words could no longer define me. What a difference that would have been.
So here’s to 29, and 15, and 17, and 18, and 19 and all the years, the good and the bad, that got me to today.