Category: LFL’s Anniversary Blogging Celebration!

Ten years ago when I turned 21, I thought I needed to change myself. Sure, I was 20 the year before that which kickstarted a new decade of my life, but 21 symbolized a person now being a legalized adult. I spent my 21st birthday at a sushi restaurant in Bedford-Stuyvesant, wearing heels that were too tall for me to comfortably walk in and it had snowed earlier that morning. Nice choices, Liz. Needless to say, it was the first time I sat down in a restaurant and was able to order myself a drink from the bar. I felt so official, you guys. I had this thought that I would be spending my 21st year living it up to the fullest and doing all of the fun shit that we saw adults doing when we were younger.

Until that became the last time I had a drink at a bar that year.

My biggest battle at 21 was that I felt pressured to become an adult. I felt like at 21, I needed to start doing things that in all honesty did not feel ready for at that age. The older I got, the more afraid I was growing up. It was normal to be 21 and not have your adult life figured out. It’s also normal to be 31 and not have the adult life you thought you should’ve had.

In the past year, I’ve definitely expressed this ongoing battle of my problems being more adult-focused, or things I wouldn’t have worried about being in my 20s. The cognitive transition alone going into your 30s completely changes, and when you’re now faced with problems that you’re experiencing for the first time, you’re left really feeling like changes in your life need to be made.

For me, I am learning to not take anything too seriously, and never personal. I am learning that when people are angry and projecting that to others, it is not because of you. I am learning that if someone else isn’t having the greatest day, it should not reflect on how I carry out my day. I am learning that to keep a healthy relationship going with your loved ones, it is crucial that you set boundaries that are important to you and your mental health.

Getting older means you begin to see things you never did before. You understand things about life that only comes with age. And I think the biggest thing about this change is that you’re expected to still live your life and take on the responsibilities you have. You still need to pay the bills. You around have to work your 9 to 5 job. You still need to have your life in order while going through some of the most unpredictable times of your life.

For me, in want to learn hope to not lose myself in the process of growing up.

20 years ago, my family and I went to visit our grandparents in Pennsylvania during the summer with my aunt, uncle, and my two baby cousins. It was always beautiful around this time of year; you could hear the camp from across the land sing and play their music marking their end-of-the-summer celebration. The goats would talk whenever my grandparents entered the pen to feed them barrels of hay and fill up their water jugs to stay hydrated. My family sat on the deck talking among each other while my 3-year old cousin and I played in the blown up kiddie pool, keeping us entertained. My sister would go pet the three American Bulldogs that my grandparents owned; Bear, Molly, and Emma.

We were there because we were celebrating my grandmother’s birthday that July; she was turning 60 that year. This year, in July, she will be 80.

She no longer lives in that quiet place in Pennsylvania. She no longer has her family of chickens and goats, waking us up in the morning with their sounds. She no longer has the three dogs as they all passed away years later. She no longer has my grandfather making playful jokes at her and making the rest of us laugh as he passed away from lung cancer in 2018.

20 years ago, I was just this little wavy haired girl hitting puberty, graduating elementary school that June and entering middle school in the Fall. 20 years later, I am a woman working in higher education, watching time pass us by and learning that if not careful, will slip in between our fingers.

Hi, my name is Liz, and I’m turning 31 in just 8 days.

The beginning of every new year seems to be more serious than before; it’s truly the mark that reminds us that yes, the years are coming and going and yes, the concept of time is really something we can’t ever fully understand. As we get older, the ones around us get older, and that’s truly a scary thought if you live your life thinking that you can manage how time is spent. As you get older, you realize how fucking depressing ringing in the new year can be. When you’re older, you wonder if the adults you grew up around felt that same wave of sadness while putting on a smile just to keep the moment magical.

But, the new year also means that we get another chance to start over, and symbolically leave the negativity of the previous year in the past. Sure, your life doesn’t automatically reset on January 1st, but it does indicate a fresh start.

I hope that in 2025, I get more opportunities to spend time with family that I don’t get to see all the time. I hope that I get the opportunity to spend my time traveling more, going to more concerts, events, and parties, and with those that I love the most. Since 2024 has given me just a slight taste in what my 30s are going to feel like, I hope that in 2025 I am able to begin working on some processes that I set my mind to. I haven’t forgotten about you, good ole doctorate program!

Lastly, I hope 2025 isn’t too cruel with the life lessons that I know I will one day have to experience. I hope that it eases me in the reality that has yet to come; the one where I am truly faced with the fact that I am growing up as the years pass by, and that on every January 1st, not only does it mean I’m blessed to have seen another year, but accept that we cannot stop time from happening.

In 2025, I hope that I continue to make memories as I’m getting older, and associate the action of getting older with a positive outlook. It’s scary to grow up; yes. It’s scary that I am at the age where I can remember something that happened 20 years ago as if it happened yesterday. It’s scary having remembered all these people in your life who were once young now getting older. It’s scary when you become the adult and you see the ones who took care of you declining in mobility and strength (physically and mentally). It’s scary to come to terms that these things are inevitable, just how the ball will drop at midnight every single year as it first did back in 1907.

It’s scary to think about, yes, but the best way to cherish the time we have now is to truly live in the present. The best way to preserve time is to simply enjoy it while we have it. And I think that’s what I’m aiming for in 2025.

Hello, 30.

I know we just met and we’re getting to know each other, but I wanted to let you know that I am excited to finally meet you. I’ve dreaded to do so in the past, feeling like meeting you would mark the end of my youth and things would just start to feel and get more serious. I was like I wasn’t ready to take on the responsibility that I would inevitably have to take, and for quite a while thought I wouldn’t ever be ready for.

But here I am, meeting you for the first time, not feeling as scared as I once was.

I know my 20s have gave you all of the insight you need to know about me. I know my 20s told you how impulsive I can be; changing my appearance and wanting to control every little thing about myself since having weight loss surgery at 27. I know my 20s told you that I challenge my anxiety every single day by doing something outside of my comfort zone ever since being first diagnosed with a disorder at 24. I know my 20’s told you that even though you are meeting me at the best part of my life, they have seen me at my lowest: 21. 23. 25, 26, a bit of 27.

I know my track record doesn’t look that great; sure, I’m in the best place I’ve been in my life, but that only came after becoming burnt out studying and getting two college degrees in the process, losing family members through sickness and cancer, losing childhood pets and animals to old age, losing friends in the various stages of my life– for fuck’s sake, I lost a lot during my 20s, and I am constantly afraid of losing anything else I have. I know they told you that it nearly took me a decade to finally figure shit out and learn things that although I’ve been told a thousand times, needed to figure out in my own timing.

You will come to learn that I am a walking diary, and this new decade of my life is just the start of another book to document all that is to come in this next decade. You will come to learn that I write down everything because I remember almost everything; I guess that comes with being a writer though. You will come to learn that I mark my success and my growth through the years—if you haven’t figured that out yet. You will come to learn that I’m trying to do things differently than what I grew up seeing and what I was taught to be when it was time for me to grow up. You will come to learn that I’m a simple being that simply wants to feel happiness after decades of feeling like I wasn’t deserving of it. You will come to learn that I hold myself on a high pedestal after decades of convincing myself it was selfish to actually see worth in yourself.

I know my 20s have told you all about me, and I know you’re not too sure how to proceed with me, but I know that you’ll learn that I’m just a creature of exploration, passion, dedication and motivation. I know that you’ll be able to talk me through the toughest decisions this next decade of life has like saving money for rent and utilities, taking care of family in the way they took care of me, appreciating the smaller things in life that I overlooked in my 20s, and so many other things that I know I won’t ever be prepared enough for. But I have faith in you, 30s, to continue teaching me and guiding me in the direction that I am meant to go on, and to continue help me grow as a person and seeing just where I fit in in this world.

I am excited for you, and I am ready for you. Hello, and welcome, 30s. My name is Liz.

To my twenties—

I wish I celebrated you more when I had the chance. I don’t regret it, but I wish I knew what I know now about what life would be like in your twenties. But I guess that’s the point of being in your twenties: you learn things about life that you didn’t know you needed to learn.

I learned that the past will always be the past, and you have control over what lessons you take from it. I learned that I have embedded traits; the ones where you want to desperately want to change but in the end can really never shake off. I learned that there are always going to be gray areas in things that are back and white, and what works for the next person may not work for you in the long run. I learned that mistakes are inevitable no matter how wise you’ve become.

I learned that these years are meant to be the messy ones: you learn that your circle of friends get smaller and smaller once you’re out of college and into the real world; and speaking of college, you learn that your college education and degrees truly don’t guarantee you a job once you graduate; you get them by utilizing the people you’ve met in these years and networking with others in your field. You learn that your relationship at 21 in a big city will not always look like a relationship at 21 in a small town; you will not be married by the age of 26, which is what I thought will happen prior to entering my twenties.

I learned that it’s okay to not know what your path of life is after leaving college; I learned that you’re not fully an adult at 22 as much as life wants you to be one. Shoot, you’re not truly an adult even after graduating with your masters degree at 24. I learned that you will go through a dozen different versions of yourself, trying each one out like a new pair of clothing and see which one feels the most comfortable in; the most authentic you. I learned that in these years, you are meant to still live life and feel young; something I took for granted in my own 20s thinking I needed to have my life figured out by then. I learned that we are not our parents, nor in their generation, and the things that they did during our age will not look like the things we are doing in ours. It’s okay to be in your 20s and still live at home. It’s okay to not want to have children in those prime years of your 20s if you do not feel fit to be a parent. It’s okay to readmit into college after 25 and who cares if you are taking the same coursework as those just entering their 20s?

I’ve learned that it’s okay to be a late bloomer– whether that be professionally, socially, academically, or spiritually– in your 20s.

I learned that your 20s are meant for constant change. These are the years that you go through different phases in your life, like a full-blown K-pop stan stage from 26 to 28 or a true-crime screenwriter stage from 20 to 22. I learned that these interests will never completely identify you, as you are constantly growing in and out of things through your 20s. I entered my 20s wanting to become a TV screenwriter and now leaving my 20s working as a professional administrator in higher education. Sure, we choose the paths we want to cross during our young adulthood but you learn that you never truly end up where you thought you’d be.

I learned that your life isn’t over when your 20s are. I learned that your 29th year on this earth will be your most influential one; it will test you for what’s to come if you are not prepared for it. I learned that what those people told you throughout your 20s is true about your 30s: you stop looking for validation from other people and other things because you already are in a space where you’re able to validate yourself. You don’t care what other people have to say about you or how they feel about you because you already know how it feels to be your own best friend, enemy, cheerleader, and judge by just getting to live in your skin 24/7. You feel secure in who you are and what you are because you spent the majority of your 20s finding out what that means for you.

I think I will celebrate my 30s knowing that my 20s deserved to be loved and supported in every way possible. I know my 20s spent the first half trying to heal from my teens and that the last half was spent to give everything my teens couldn’t get. I guess my 30s will be just that: celebrating everything that I gained, lost, yearned for, and received in my 20s.

To my twenties— thank you for such a monumental decade of my life.

This is Liz, signing out one last time in my 20s.