Two years ago, when I turned 20, I wrote a blog post called The Year I Was Nineteen reflecting back on all I had done that year. I didn’t write one for 20 but I’m bringing it back this year! Spending my birthday in quarantine definitely isn’t my first choice so it’s nice to look back at all of the things that have happened during my 21st year on this Earth.
The year I was twenty-one was a year of self-discovery. One that was filled with the highest of highs and the lowest low. It was the year I became my most independent self. The year I became my most confident self.
At twenty-one, I was brave. I decided to stop running from my story and tell it instead, opening up about what I have survived and the pain I have overcome. It was the year I decided to take a 30-hour train ride across the country by myself. The year I wrote a letter, opening up my heart. The year I dropped out of a marathon, running a half instead, and the year I decided to train for another one. Because of COVID-19, I don’t know if I will get to run a marathon at twenty-two, but I hope to.
The year I was twenty-one, I got mono. So naturally, a week after I was diagnosed, I decided to go camping in Glacier. I saw bears in the wild for the first time, an Amish man gave me $100, I got to see one of my favorite people for the first time in too long. It was a fabulous life choice.
I traveled quite a bit at twenty-one. I went on a ghost tour in Maryland and ate rolled ice cream in Virginia. I was dragged along the bottom of a river while tubing during a camping trip in northern Wisconsin. I tried chicken and waffles in Dallas. I visited the “Underground Target” in Minneapolis during a spontaneous weekend getaway. I spent 3 incredible weeks in Jamaica where I learned how to cook traditional foods at a hostel, visited a coffee estate, and swam in the luminous lagoon.
At twenty-one, I found so much joy. I hiked up a waterfall in Ocho Rios and thought to myself, this is what being young is supposed to look like. Meeting new people, traveling to new places, doing adventurous things. I sat in dive bars drinking whiskey gingers. I talked about life over chips, queso, and margs with one of my favorite people. I texted a friend, “fu*k it, let’s be yes people” and we had the best night dancing and drinking 75 cent beer with old and new friends. I tried bouldering for the first time. It challenges me but I love it. At twenty-one, I could complete a V2. At twenty-two, I hope to go even higher.
When I was twenty-one, I got a phone call one average October day that shook me to my core. The words, “I have cancer” is never something you want to hear your mother say. My roommate and I went to Chipotle and cried. Later that night, I cried so hard in my friend’s car that he asked if I was going to make it. I was lucky to have friends who never left my side. I’m lucky to go into twenty-two with them beside me. At twenty-one, I watched my mom fight with such grace and courage. I watched her still put us kids first, routinely sending us care packages when it should be the other way around. I hope, the year I am twenty-two, she will be cancer-free. I’ve been asked a few times where I get my strength from. At twenty-one, I learned the answer to that question. I get it from my mother.
The year I was twenty-one, in a Woodman’s parking lot, I looked at someone and realized that they felt like home. A person who knew all the scariest parts of me but didn’t seem phased by them. So I wrote them a letter. At twenty-one, I learned that timing is a bitch but also that it doesn’t always change things. Four months, a three-hour puzzle, and some pancakes with peanut butter later, I’ve still never felt more at home than when I’m laughing with this person. At twenty-two, timing is still a bitch. I don’t know who I am to this person. I don’t know if they even know. I don’t know if I’ll ever know. What I do know, is that when I was twenty-one, they touched my life in some pretty remarkable ways, changing my life and making me a better person just by showing up + being themself, and I’ll always be grateful. And at twenty-two, regardless of where this story goes, I’ll smile because I still think the absolute world of them and the world is a better place with them in it.
The year I was twenty-one was the year a global pandemic shook the world. The year I was offered a job in New York City, that I then had to be let go from. The year I lived alone for the first time. All thanks to said global pandemic. It was also the year I was awarded a prestigious fellowship. (Here’s to hoping the pandemic doesn’t mess with that one!) The year I sat on my porch with my best friends drinking wine. The year my roommate and I would go jump in a river when the summer heat was stifling. The year I vowed to only buy myself good beer, because I deserve it and life’s about the little things.
Twenty-one was a hard year, but a good year. I don’t know what twenty-two will look like. Maybe I’ll be in South Korea. Maybe I’ll be in Virginia Beach. Maybe I’ll end up somewhere I haven’t dreamed of yet. All I can do is have faith in God’s plan.
We don’t know what the world will look like in the coming weeks, let alone a year. But, with another year of love, lessons, faith, and really good people backing me, I’m ready to find out.
