20 Lessons I've Learned at 20

Introduction: 20 Lessons I've Learned at 20
Lesson One: Take advantage of the time you are responsible for no one but yourself
Lesson Two: No amount of inspirational quotes will comfort you quite like your mother can
Lesson Three: Counting calories doesn't help you count your blessings
Lesson Four: If you have a funny feeling, chances are you've found a phony
Lesson Five: Sob uncontrollably if you have to. Just make sure you have peanut butter...
Lesson Six: Never overuse "I'm sorry"
Lesson Seven: Never stop doing what removes you from the chaos
Lesson Eight: Life will place you exactly where you need to be
Lesson Nine: Look up
Lesson Ten: You have the pen that writes your life story
Lesson Eleven: Laugh at yourself
Lesson Twelve: Believe in that four letter word
Lesson Thirteen: You can learn the deepest knowledge from the youngest brains
Lesson Fourteen: If someone doesn't contribute to your life, pack your good memories and move the hell on
Lesson Fifteen: Don't make stress, make a plan
Lesson Sixteen: You're never in a boat alone
Lesson Seventeen: Take pride in your hometown
Lesson Eighteen: Make your own rules & follow them
Lesson Nineteen: Write a letter to yourself
Lesson Twenty: My purpose
The Purpose Behind The Series

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Seventeen

17.      Take pride in your hometown.



 

I was born in a town that is the epitome of the intersection between city folk and Old McDonald. I went to a small farm school for my elementary education where you could name everyone in your grade. The “Ag” program started at a young age and our history was as solid as the bricks that built the school. The name was Hopewell and it created within its students what the name suggests—hope for a future with endless education and the wellness of mind from knowing the people around you would form the friendships you cherish forever.

 

As we grew into awkward brace-faced preteens with curious minds and Lisa Frank folders, we graduated D.A.R.E and went to middle school. The other elementary school in the district combined with mine to double our class size and in turn doubling our pool of boyfriend prospects. It was intimidating having these “city kids” march into recess with their Aeropostale baby T’s. But we stuck with what we knew and held hands through the change. We let in new friends but held tight to the old. They were our comfort, our past, and our home.

 

Soon there were no lines between one person’s past and another’s. We were the big dogs of the school with our boy-girl parties and our first kisses. We were too cool for dances and hell, come at us, we even wore mascara. We went to movies and held hands and (kind of) fell in love. We had couple songs to Gavin Degraw’s Chariot and made friendship bracelets.

 

Then we went to high school. We went from head honchos to little punks and we held tight through it all. We went through our first heartbreaks and low-points and maybe even failed a test. But the one thing we never lost was our grip. We knew where each other came from and we made sure we never lost sight of it. We whined there was nothing to do when we got our first taste of freedom at the sweet age of sixteen. Yet our lack of events made us appreciate the simple company of each other. We didn’t have IMAX theaters or teen clubs. We had movie rentals and Adornetto’s. We had bonfires and toasted marshmallows and sleepovers galore. We had game nights and lazy nights and gift exchanges.

 

And when we once again became the big dogs of the school—only this time with true loves and sisterhoods facing the biggest change of our lives—we prepared to say “see you later” with our hands, still, held tight.

 

I will forever be grateful for the place that taught me most of these lessons. Be grateful for the town that taught you how to love, how to fight— and how to be.

 

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Fourteen

14.      If someone doesn’t contribute to your life, pack your good memories and move the hell on.

 

 

As a child, I wasn’t the easiest to get along with. I was bossy, challenging, and overly inquisitive. I thought it was my personal duty to make sure that everyone knew their place in my life. For some, this was the beginning of longtime friendships. But for others, it may have meant a swift kick to the balls. No, seriously. I once did just that to a boy on the playground…

 

Sound harsh? It was. This attitude set me up for some hard-hitting lessons growing up. Though, the small trace of this attitude has served me right in some ways as well.

 

At what point do we lose sight of this mindset? If you have a gut feeling about someone, or they do you wrong, don’t look in the rearview mirror as you remove them from your life. Remember the good memories—there was a reason why they were in your life at one point. They served a purpose in your life for a few weeks or maybe a few decades. But be thoughtful of the bad memories. It is easy to miss someone for the wonderful time you spent with him or her. But it takes strength and confidence in your intuition and wisdom earned to remember how they did you wrong.

 

The goals you have in mind and the happiness you seek in life are far more important than letting a black hole in your life take it from you. It may hurt more than you think you can physically handle. But when you aren’t losing energy to someone unworthy of your relentless thoughts, you’ll be surprised at how beautiful life can be.

 

Cut the ties that bind you to the weight on your back. Knee the person where it counts if you need to. (Maybe more figuratively speaking…) You are more beautiful when you are surrounded by people who shed light on your beauty rather than those who cast shadows on it.

 

 

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Eight

8.      Life will place you exactly where you need to be.

 

 

One of my greatest blessings in life is my title of “aunt.” I am an aunt to four little ones, and it has brought more laughs, love, and unsurprising lessons than I could have imagined. Just the other day, two of my nieces, sat down to chat with me for a few minutes. As usual, one of the most commonly asked questions in my life came up.

 

So you’re thinking, “Oh, Rachel. Did they ask you how you were?” Funny you ask, actually… No. That is not the question I had in mind.

 

“Oh, so they asked you how college is going, right?” Yes, they did. But we are talking about my sassy little divas, here, so no, that isn’t what I’m referring to.

 

They asked me if I had a boyfriend yet. And, I said, “No, ladies. Do I need to have one?” And like the two angels I have taught them to be, they replied, “Oh, no, absolutely not! You’re like Taylor Swift!”

 

I winced in agony for a good while. But, not for too long. Mainly because this isn’t the first time they have told me this. But also because I know in the mind of a 4 year old, that is the biggest compliment you could possibly give someone.

 

Now I know life has placed me exactly where I need to be. Some people can grow with someone beside them. I suppose this is when you know you have found the person who should be beside you until you take your last breath. But for me, not having someone beside me has forced me to look within myself for the answers. I haven’t had to explain myself, my actions, my choices, or even my outfit choices to anyone. (Purple pants and a convict-orange sweater? Taylor Swift says yes.)

 

Now don’t get me wrong, I look forward to the moment my life aligns with someone else’s. I’m a hopeless romantic; I cry at the end of every sappy “I love you and I always have” movie and have my wedding dreamt up in my head. But the time I have had to define just what my life means as a product of one is invaluable. And among other opportunities that have come my way, I have learned that God will put just what I need on my plate when I need it the most.

 

 

Have confidence that life will be all you need it to be. Shout out to all my Taylor Swifts out there. We're doing it-- and we're rocking it out with sequined guitars and one kickass attitude.

 

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose



20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Seven

7.   Never stop doing what removes you from the chaos

I’ll never forget that minty blue-green leotard and the magic it encapsulated. It was about the same size as would fit a Chihuahua. I visited my grandmother who now dances from above, and the day was what every three-year-old little girl has ever dreamed of. (Minus Cinderella making me the long lost Disney princess and living in a castle with my invisible friend Amy.)

I began dancing that day back 17 years ago, and it began my love of movement and the power it gave me to express myself. I truly believe this passion of mine paved the way to a creative talent I share with you today—writing.

The way a poetic melody paired with a compelling lyric made my toes flutter and my heart pound was intoxicating. It was as if the music moved through me. My brain didn’t need to equate or calculate. It was a beautiful escape.

After 15 years of some interesting dance concepts on my part—I recreated the infamous Tom Cruise in Risky Business scene as a solo performance and wore a costume that made me look like a glittery pickle—I packed up everything I had ever known and moved to college. And with my reliance on my parents, my dancing fell to homework and college boys.

I have learned to incorporate dance and creativity into my schedule. And when I fail to do just this, my mood tends to show it. Because as time will tell you, the movement that removes you from the chaos is sometimes difficult to keep up with. But remember that little leotard and the look on your loved ones face when they saw a future for you before you created your own. There’s a reason you were given that talent. It is your ticket to sanity and a world your three-year-old self could have only dreamed of…

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Five

5.      Sob uncontrollably if you have to. Just make sure you have peanut butter. There’s a reason why it’s so sticky—it mends the soul.

 

“Suck it up.”

“Man up.”

“Dry your tears.”

 

We’ve heard these words spoken to us since we were kids. And, granted, sometimes we deserved it. Pretty sure when my 6 year old self was sobbing on the other side of my bedroom door unable to unlock it due to the stolen chocolate dripping from my fingers, I deserved some tough love.

 

But as we grow in height, we grow in heart. What used to be solved with a tissue and some tough love now takes time, old sweatpants, a prayer, and a big ole jar of peanut butter.

 

After the sobs, cries, and anger subside, there is something beautiful that happens. Like the eye of a hurricane, a calm wave of clarity overcomes us. It’s as if the tears have literally washed away the deepest of the wound. The pain still aches through our chests, but the worst of the storm is over.

 

I’ve lost family to tragedy and I’ve lost love to heart break. I’ve cried my fair share. But amidst all of the loss, I have found me. A strong, curious, quirky, peanut-butter-breathed me.

 

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Four

4.      If you have a funny feeling, chances are you’ve found a phony.

 

 

My family and friends have often told me I should write a book discussing all of the phonies I’ve found. I rarely consider myself an expert on a topic, but I can say with a high level of confidence that I am an expert on this subject. I even have the title picked out—“You’re A Great Girl, But…” Let’s just say my life is like the movie 50 First Dates… but I actually remember every.

                                                                                                                                single.
                                                                                                                                               one of them.

 

The lesson I’ve learned from all of these enlightening experiences is that in each of them, I had a gut feeling at one point or another that something was off. Something wasn’t off with the way they chewed their gum (my sister actually broke up with a guy for this exact reason) or because they walked funny. (Guilty). Something was off in the way they left me feeling. It was like I ate something that seemed nice, but it took convincing myself that after a whole bowl of it that I would love it. But instead of loving it, it really just left a bad taste in my mouth that I tried to ignore.

 

If someone leaves a bad taste in your mouth, don’t keep digging in until the source of the taste is uncovered. Don’t be that guy that swishes it around in his mouth obnoxiously. Be that girl or that guy that walks the other direction the moment it occurs to you that your futures don’t align. Or that your heart doesn’t beat in sync with the other. Or that you will never end up serving the purpose you are meant to serve with that person beside you.

 

Trust me, being alone will never feel as lonely as being beside someone who makes you feel as if you are.

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

 

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Three

3.      Counting calories doesn’t help you count your blessings.

 

We’re all guilty of it. So just leave your Weight Watcher trackers at the door of the previous page you visited. For the few brief minutes you’ve invited me into your home or office or closet to hide from Aunt Betty and her ugly sweater party, let your self-doubts go.

 

Now, I’m not going to turn into a Special K commercial on you and tell you that your jean size is now “Fabulous” or anything. But I want you to take a second and think about how beating yourself up over a wrinkle here or a roll there helps you to enjoy the people in your life and the purpose you strive to fulfill. If you delete that pesky little app from your phone and the voice inside you that prevents you from fully enjoying that Krispy Kreme, you’ll see that it doesn’t help you at all.

 

And isn’t that an essential part of our lives? Counting our blessings? Without these blessings, we would struggle for motivation. I would bet some Ramen noodles (hey, I’m a college student) that your fitness tracker will never motivate you quite like the blessings in your life can.

 

Shift your focus from the numbers to the faces, the calories to the people and the hate to the love. Then, take a deep breath… and take a bite.

 

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Two

2.      No amount of inspirational quotes will comfort you quite like your mother can.

 

We see them every day. Pinterest has made a business out of it. Teenage girls have become Instafamous on Instagram with them. They haunt us with their clever plays on words and millisecond of satisfaction.

 

I’m talking inspirational quotes, people. The words that weave together dried tears and a pat on the back in a poetic melody. The melody wraps around our heart convincing us to make it our background on our phone. (Just me?) We pretend to live our lives by these quotes like “live in the sunshine” or “the best thing to hold onto in life is each other.”

To be frank, you can’t live in the sunshine where there are clouds. Now, I know you can create your own figurative sunshine and learn to “dance like no one’s watching” beneath that figurative sunshine, but will it really last? Will these momentary flashes of inspiration help us uncover the bed sheets in the morning and face our chaotic lives?

 

If there is one lesson I have been so fortunate to learn, it is that not one of these quotes—no matter how applicable they may be to our current situation— will ever make us feel quite like our mother can.

 

If you’re one of my soul sisters or brothers and have one of those generic quotes with whimsical letters on an image straight off Pinterest haven, delete it. Replace it with a photo of your mother. Or your sister. Or your dog, Chunks. Whoever that person or animal is that makes you feel like you’re not alone—and you’re right where you need to be—make him or her your background. Look at them and feel the love they speak to you each time you struggle to put one foot in front of the other. They are the melody in the movie of your life. They are the best thing to hold onto in life. No need for sunshine. They will always be the light that guides you home.

Love you “oodles & doodles,” Mom.

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

 

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson One

1. Take advantage of the time you are responsible for no one but yourself.

There are few times in our lives that we have few obligations. For some of you, this time may have seemingly passed. And for others, you may be experiencing it now. But even if this lesson applies to the thirty minutes you have during naptime, read carefully.

Sometimes we take for granted the fact that we don’t have to hold someone’s hand as they choose which tie looks best for work, or whether that lipstick is too daring for daytime. (Ladies, it never is.) For some of us, we don’t have to wake up because someone has the sniffles or sees a monster beneath their bed.

 

These years we live with little obligations and responsibilities are spent wishing that we had someone next to us or complaining that a midterm is approaching. But we must learn to cherish the only agenda we have in our lives right now—our own. Our time will come when we must coordinate and calibrate his and hers or his and his or hers and hers schedules. Our time will come when we can’t sip on wine and watch The Notebook on a Tuesday because we feel like it. Our time will come when we can’t wake up at 6am on Homecoming Saturday and decide not only is it appropriate to have beer with our eggs, it is expected. Our time will come when our grandparents and parents aren’t the ones there to hold our hands through this crazy maze we call life. Our time will come when our worries turn from taking tests to praying for hope.

 

Hold on to the time you have when your only responsibility is finding yourself and creating who you envision when you think of you. Make an imprint where you see potential while there’s no one there to ask you why.

 

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose

New Series: 20 Lessons I've Learned at 20

 

Living isn't merely existing or breathing.

Now, this is coming from someone who thinks in grey scale and majors in news & information. I'm sure if you asked a biology major who thinks in black and white, you would get a much different definition of living. But for time and sanity's sakes, let's say simply breathing and letting life pass you by in scenes isn't enough. It isn't sufficient in defining living.

In the twenty years I have spent living, I have learned lessons worth sharing. Now, these are simple lessons. These are not the secrets to life. I have not gone sky diving, bungee jumping, climbed Mt. Everest, or saved the world. I'm not Ghandi, I'm a college-aged girl from Ohio. But I have been pooped on by a bird, had my heart broken more than once, gone on some incredibly awful first dates, had braces, survived middle school, and ran a 5K. Which, honestly, are all victories in themselves.

So here's to all of you out there-- the ones who have cried into tubs of ice cream, tripped walking upstairs, wet yourselves a little from laughing, gone all day with your fly unzipped, and been pooped on by a bird. This series of posts over the next few weeks is for you. We are all survivors in our own way, and because of these small victories, we have learned and we have lived. I hope you enjoy my 20 Lessons I've Learned at 20. Because I sure love uncovering the feeling-- the feeling I get after brushing off the dust (or bird poop) and drying up the tears-- the feeling I know I'm going to be okay.

 

it’s an outlet. it’s an inspiration. it’s a gift. it’s a purpose