December 9, 2016
My Beloved Twenties,
Soon, I will be leaving you. I am addressing this a few months ahead of time because I wanted to give you the chance to process this, and move on. I know we both thought we would last forever, but I’m going to be spending the next part of my life with someone else. My Thirties are just around the corner, politely waiting for you to go away. Don’t make it weird.
But before we say goodbye, I need you to know how much you meant to me. Even though it was pretty rocky there in the beginning. I mean, that one time we accidentally dyed our hair orange? With this olive skin tone? Come on, girl. Or how about the time when our acne was so bad it took fourteen months of severe medication and blood work to get the clear skin some
bastards people just naturally have? For years we were incredibly shy, at times lonely. We found solace only in the fictional worlds of video games and sci-fi shows. We were confused, at times cripplingly insecure, and weak. We pinched pennies, barely made rent, and starved to get by. But do you want to know something? I wouldn’t trade a second of it.
Those years made me who I am. I found my value not in my looks, but in my mind, my humor, and my strong will. My imagination flourished within the beautiful, warm and welcoming realms of fantasy and fiction. They inspired me to become the superhero I wanted to see in the real world. Struggling made me truly appreciate every dollar I would earn. I learned I could get by on nothing, and endure anything. Some
douchebags people may have been lucky enough to walk an easier route, but it took the winding road to teach me I could not be broken.
Twenties, you made me a survivor. Eventually making me unapologetically brave. Nothing and no one could stop me. In you, I felt nothing was impossible, no dream was too farfetched, and my body was invincible. And this body, though for quite some time pathetically scrawny, deserved respect. I learned how to take care of it and shaped it to be powerful. Discovering the hidden might of my body led to finding what was truly valuable- the strength of my voice. The more I spoke up, the more it hilariously enraged people, and the thicker my skin became. Pissing people off by telling them a truth they didn’t want to hear was so much fun! The cycle was deliciously addictive. In you, I fell in love a few times and then, unexpectedly, fell in love for real. I got married and finally had someone to share my comic books with. In you, Twenties, I used my newfound superpower of courage to create my own family, accomplish my childhood dreams, travel the world, become financially independent, provide for my loved ones, help others, and most importantly- to find myself. We really hit our stride toward the end there. But you’ve done all you can for me, and it’s time to move on to…
My Intimidating Thirties,
I understand for most, reaching you can be terrifying. As if it is an official end to being young, wild, and carefree. But truth be told, I was a boring-ass grandma from the age of twelve, so I feel like I’m gonna be a natural at this “adult” thing. I’d be lying if I said I don’t wince at the new wrinkles around my eyes, or complain about the increasing pain in my knees and neck. It’s hard realizing your body isn’t as indestructible as you once thought. But I find pride in knowing these are trophies of my Twenties. These lines are from feeling with all of my heart- crying, smiling, laughing, LIVING. And the aches in my joints are proof of my body’s sacrifice. It has pushed itself past its limits in order to live out a dream. Countless hours in the gym, countless crashes on a canvas, countless times just randomly falling over because I’m a klutz.
And even though I will never stop dressing like a prepubescent boy, I have never felt more like a true woman. I am finally comfortable in my skin. I am proud of my body. I am confident in my looks. I have learned that there is no one definition when it comes to beauty. We must define it for ourselves.
The closer I get to you, my Thirties, the less I care about anyone’s opinion of me. And that feels like the greatest gift age can give: perspective. I have never known myself more. And I have never been more proud of who that little weirdo is. I have never felt more brazenly ME. Mere days after we begin our time together, a book holding my life story will be out in the world. Another childhood dream I am grateful and honored to be capable of fulfilling. (Who gets to fulfill two in one lifetime?! This
lucky bitch lady.) My mind and my words will be my weapons now. No longer will my tiny body have to bear the brunt of the work. It’s done so much for me, but now it can rest. Unless of course at some point I decide to really test its power and create a tiny human both blessed with my shiny dark hair and cursed with my giant forehead. I am a little scared of you, Thirties. But I am also tremendously excited at the promise of you. And ready for every new adventure you have in store.
I will wistfully remember you, Twenties. But please don’t be sad, I promise there are millions of Teens lined up, who can’t wait to be inside of you. (Note to self: think about rephrasing this sentence before posting.) Thank you for letting me see the world, make a lot of mistakes, take courageous leaps of faith, and for a while have abs I could do the laundry on. We got through some rough times and we survived. My skin is full of your scars. My heart is reinforced with your fight and strength. You have prepared me for this next stage of life. Goodbye Twenties.
Hello Thirties. You are the woman I’ve always wanted to be. And maybe, in one of your days, I might actually try to learn how to walk in heels.