Personal Stories

Thoughts on turning 30, my favorite memories from my 20s, and what I’m most looking forward to about the next decade of my life.

I’m writing this post on the last day of my 20s.

It’s an odd statement that brings up a lot of feelings, but I guess it’s a good sign that the one that’s the strongest is excitement.

It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was turning 20 in San Diego.

I still had another year left of college and I still had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.

I remember thinking about how I had a whole decade of my 20s in front of me.

On one hand, that feels like a lifetime ago because so much has happened since then.

On the other hand, it’s interesting to look back.

It always feels like time has a way of flying by.

I guess it’s a clear reminder of the elusiveness of life and how it passes by quickly, at least in retrospect.

The one thing I promised myself back then was that my 20s would be for myself.

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You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place. // Miriam Adeney

I’m currently on a train in Scotland, rolling through the lush green countryside. There are deep blue-grey lochs on my left and clean white light filtering through the many windows in my car. 

This is my life, or at least it has been for the past 5 years. I somehow find myself in the most beautiful places, usually by myself, or all to myself, if you frame it that way. 

It’s my 28th birthday this Saturday. The past years have been a whirlwind of travel memories, some of my strongest friendships, losses, and countless new beginnings. 

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My friends and I made our way giggling in a tuk tuk to the party. The night before we had danced on a moonlit beach, Leos in hand, swaying in time to the palm trees and chill electronic beats.

“Wow, you seem to be doing so well. If I was in your position, I would not be this okay right now,” one of my friends said to me, when I mentioned my abrupt breakup from two weeks ago.

I shrugged my shoulders, “I guess I just want to be happy. I don’t want to be sad over something that wasn’t meant to be.”

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The sun brought out the subtle green hues in the waves today.

I walked to the sea and floated in the warm reflections. They reminded me of the color of your deep set eyes, the specks of marine blues and greens and how they always had a crinkle, like the lip of a curling wave.

Do you remember that night? The tiny red plastic chairs, the uncontrollable laughter, a serene cloudless sky with the smell of sizzling fried chicken at our side.

It was electric.

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It’s my 27th birthday in two days!

To celebrate I’m heading down to Si Phan Don in Laos, also known as the 4,000 Islands. As many of you know, I spend every birthday of my 20s in a different city. My 21st was in San Diego, my 22nd in Las Vegas, my 23rd in Melbourne, my 24th in Wellington, my 25th in Veneta, my 26th in Chicago, and now my 27th will be in Si Phan Don!

I also wanted to celebrate by sharing 27 things I’ve learned from almost three decades on this planet. I mean, you get wiser with age, right? Well, let’s hope so!

My 20s thus far have been all about that learning curve of life. When I look back on who I was in my early 20s, circa 2011, it almost feels like another person. Then again, to my core, I’m still me.

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It started raining at sunset tonight.

I looked up at the sky and it brought me back to that night. There were crashing waves and mojitos. The rain was coming down in buckets, we had to shout to hear each other over the noise.

If you were here, we would look up at the rain falling down on our faces and laugh at the perfect way in which it paralleled a 90s romantic comedy.

We would pause as we took our eyes away from the oncoming storm to notice the graceful way the falling sun framed our faces, our glances lingering a second too long.

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So, today has finally come.

The day I’ve been dreading since I first started making memories, and realized just how much you meant to me. The day that I can no longer come for a visit over strong black coffee and talk for hours about nothing much except life.

February 15th, 2017.

I will remember this day until my day comes, the day you passed away.

In a way, I’d already lost bits and pieces of you over the past few years, as is usual with age and its tendency to eat away at a person. When I’d come back from my two years abroad, I realized how much you had changed and how I would never get you fully back as I knew you.

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