35 Lessons From 35 Years
Last year I didn't want to stay long enough to see 35. Today, I'm so glad I get to be here, and I am so, genuinely glad to be 35, still alive.
Today is my 35th birthday.
And for the first time in a long time, I can truly say, I’m so glad I was born. I’m so glad to be alive.
I spent years of my life angry that I was born. Endured multiple depressive episodes that left me wanting to not be alive.
Decades of therapy, grueling self-inquisition, and ultimately, a realization that my experience on this earth is simply human, not broken, led me to a place of resolve: I am living. I am alive.
All I can control are my actions and how I respond to life happening around me—beyond that, this journey won’t be perfect. But it will be alive.
As I reflect on my life, I feel immense gratitude for the opportunities I’ve had. To feel love, to travel, to be hurt and discover my capacity to come back from pain, to go to therapy and learn tools for living, to mend relationships, end relationships, take risks, fall hard, and get back up.
I’m glad that my attempts to leave didn’t work, and in honor of being 35—still alive—here are 35 lessons I’ve learned in life.
35 Lessons from 35 Years
It's brave to ask for help. It is braver to accept it.
To experience true belonging, you have to be brave enough to be yourself.
It is foolish to prioritize one component of your health over another, because they're all connected. Instead, devote equal time to caring for each of them.
Eat things that bring you joy.
You won’t be everything for everyone. But you might be something for someone.
Eat in the company of people who make you feel safe.
Stay in the present moment. The past can’t be changed and the future never comes, but the present is always with you. Stay there.
Tell people how you feel. Even if it’s scary. Even if it hurts. Especially if you love them.
Stop wasting time wearing masks. People want to see you. Show them.
Travel if you can.
The level of your discomfort in the unknown is the meeting point of your comfort in what you’re capable of. Ride that edge to find out what’s really possible.
Not all friendships last and that's okay. Don't be afraid to form new connections despite a history of loss.
Human connection is the most healing tool on the planet and it's free. Find it.
Boundaries protect relationships including the one with yourself. Boundaries don’t mean cutting off all access to you and your world—it means treating your world like a castle and boundaries like the bridges that open and close so people can visit.
You will make mistakes. A lot of them. You're going to make them whether you want to or not, so you might as well do something courageous.
There is no such thing as being “healed.” Life doesn't stop happening. Instead, focus on finding wellness and stability and building a toolbox so that when life happens, you have the tools and support to move through it.
Two opposing ideas can be true at the same time. Replace your “buts” with “ands” and watch your world open up.
Removing absolutes, black and white thinking, and all or nothings is the key to acceptance, understanding, and flexibility.
If you wait until you're ready, you’ll never start.
Use “I” statements if you want to improve communication with loved ones.
Grief has no timeline. Give yourself grace for how long it takes you to recover.
Relapse happens. It is not a reflection of your willpower or character. It is a reflection of challenging circumstances around you, and your brain reverting to more familiar and comfortable coping mechanisms.
Social media is not therapy. Therapy is therapy. Try it.
Balance vulnerability and privacy. Not everyone gets to know the most intimate parts of you.
More often than not, you're doing enough.
If you don’t know what your values are, ask what hurts the most. Chances are, your pain is a reflection of where you’re not living in alignment with your values.
Stop apologizing for your existence.
Nothing hurts in isolation. Physical and emotional pain are an infinite loop—sometimes you have to heal the mind to heal the body, and sometimes you have to heal the body to heal the mind.
Trauma is real. It impacts the brain’s ability to feel safe which impacts the physical body’s ability to function optimally. The panic and fear you feel is not made up.
Do more things that bring you joy and less things that you think you’re supposed to like. Life is too short to spend time on shit you don’t care about.
Celebrate EVERYTHING. It’s a goddamn miracle you’re alive, and any moment where you can soak up and spread joy expands that miracle.
Shame has no business anywhere. Reducing shame is like taking off a weighted backpack on an arduous hike—the hike is already hard. Shame only makes it harder.
Dance.
Surround yourself with people who act like your personal cheerleader. This doesn’t mean your people should like everything about you—it means they want you to succeed and are rooting for you to rise.
Don’t be afraid to begin again.
If any of these resonated, I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
I am grateful as hell to be here another year to share this with you.
2023 brought me immense healing, courage, and allowed me to find the stability I’ve needed for many years. I’m hopeful that 2024 will bring more joy, expansion, and discovery. I’m happy to be here, and I’m happy to know you’re here too.
I’m glad you are still here too, and also grateful to be alive and able to read this today. All of these resonate deeply. I can’t even pick out one (or even 5) that do more than the others.
I stared at your first sentences reflecting back at me exactly what I felt when I also turned 35 last month. Yes, I wished I realised all I know now much sooner, but reading through your very wise piece, I wonder, maybe it just takes 35 years to feel truly alive and truly yourself. And that is the best gift I ever received. Let's begin!