I can’t believe I’m at the point where I’m granted the privilege to write the coveted ‘things I learnt in my twenties’ piece. The one usually accompanied by a carefully curated carousel of pictures. A few profound sounding lessons. And just enough self reflection to make you believe the writer has finally figured life out. I hope I don’t give you that impression.
Well. My twenty somethings did teach me a lot. Not necessarily the things I thought I would learn. And certainly not in the neat chronological order I would have preferred. Most lessons came crashing through the front door. Rearranged the furniture and left without explaining themselves. Hehe. So. Well. Here I am. In the spirit of tradition. Here goes nothing
I learnt that adulthood is surprisingly ordinary. It is paying bills. Making spreadsheets. It is remembering to buy toilet paper. It is realising that a clean kitchen can improve your mood significantly. It is understanding why your mother kept plastic bags inside other plastic bags. It is sending emails you don’t want to send. Changing your mind. It is checking your bank account before making plans. It is getting irrationally excited about a new frying pan. Learning how to rest without feeling guilty. It is understanding that you actually do have food at home. It is having a Woolworths loyalty card and suddenly understanding why ugogo was so excited about points.
It is getting home from work. Taking off your bra. Putting on pyjamas and realising that this is. In fact. The evening you had been looking forward to. It is understanding why your father wanted peace and quiet when he got home. It is having a favourite supermarket aisle. Knowing which auntie to call when you need the real answer. It is sending money home. It is understanding what it means to be someone’s child and someone’s support system at the same time. It is having conversations with your mother that you could never have imagined having at 18. It is getting shocked after hearing yourself say something your mother used to say. And realising she was right. You just didn’t like her tone. It is understanding why your parents said they had no money right after being paid. It is noticing that you have opinions now. Strong ones. About bedding. About which brand of mayonnaise is superior. About how towels should be folded.
I learnt that sometimes what we think matters really doesn’t. Being liked by everyone. Having the right answer. Being understood by people. The need to explain myself. The need to prove that I was doing well. I learnt that there are things worth fighting for and things worth leaving alone. That protecting my peace is not the same as avoiding hard things. That being a good person does not require me to be endlessly available. Endlessly agreeable. Endlessly understanding. That ‘no’ is a complete sentence. That I can love people deeply and still have boundaries. That I can forgive someone and still decide that I don’t want them close to me. And perhaps most importantly. I learnt that the things I thought would make me happy were not always the things that did. Yes. My twenties were not exactly perfect. No. I would not change anything.
“There has been joy and there has been grief. There have been answers and there have been questions. There has been thankfulness and there has been hurt. For all that has happened I am who I have become. And I am still happening. By all that has happened I am still happening.” ~Tanner Olson
And yet. When I look back I don’t think of my twenties as a collection of things that happened to me. I think of them as a thousand small moments that when strung together became a life I genuinely love. A life that feels good to live.
What a privilege it has been.
I’m a grown woman now. A fact I am still occasionally surprised by.