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 Fifteen

15. Don't make stress, make a plan

 

 

So if you never took my advice way back in the beginning of this journey, you may still have inspirational quotes as the background on your phone. Which, if that’s what gets your mind at ease or your motivation running, be my guest. But for today’s purposes, let’s focus on the stress we have created in our lives that encouraged us to seek inspirational quotes on Pinterest in the first place.

 

Some of you may have read over the “stress we have created in our lives” part above and turned red. Some of you may have forgotten how you stumbled upon this inspirational pile of randomness and were incoherent when you read it. But if I made you mad by stating it that way, let me explain.

 

See, life hands us some unfortunate circumstances sometimes. Whether it be short-term or long-term, navigating the rain puddles and detours in our journey can prove to be difficult. It is natural for us to worry about how we are going to handle the obstacle or stress over what the next challenge will be.

 

But if we took the time we spent worrying and stressing and used it to draft a plan, imagine how much happier we would be. I once said quite some time ago that every moment spent worrying can be spent living. I would like to take a step further and say sometimes those moments spent worrying need to be spent strategizing as to how you can live more happily. It sounds mathematical and therefore foreign to me, but it is true.

 

Stop stressing and start planning. As a wise little girl once told me, “when life hands you lemons, you just gotta add sugar.” Make a plan as to how you’re going to add your sugar, and work it out. Stress is toxic—sugar is delicious.

 

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

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Eleven

11.     Laugh at yourself.

 

Most of my lessons have been years in the making. I have lived through multiple episodes of the same plot resulting in the same lesson. (I’m hard headed). But this lesson came as an epiphany. Let me set the scene for you.

 

I have been planning the largest canned food drive at my beloved Ohio University. The logistics of this event are similar to fixing the haircut we all tried to give ourselves when we were three. You can keep trimming away the details, but there will always be those inevitable loose ends. I won’t bore you with more, but let’s just say on this particular day, I had lifted well over 1,300 canned foods, spilled horrid mushroom soup down my front, and accidentally punched a cabinet. I felt like the bird in that Windex commercial that is tricked into thinking the glass door is actually an open window.

 

So after slamming into my day and sliding down the window in slow motion, I hit the ground. I walked into my apartment, took my pants off, and made hot dogs. I turned on Law & Order SVU and dug into my mustard covered feast. It was two hot dogs in that I put down my fork and just started giggling at myself. My giggles turned to belly laughs and my belly laughs turned into full-on, teary-eyed cackling. At this point, the tears were rolling down my cheeks and it was literally becoming difficult to take a deep breath…

 

I mean, come on! Here I am sitting in my living room with no pants on eating bun-less hot dogs watching Detective Benson do her thing. I had a hundred things I should have been doing. But I wasn’t worried about them. My biggest concern was my roommate walking in and checking me into a mental institution.

 

We’ve all had these moments. You may have had pants on in yours. You may have been 20 feet below sea level. Or have just realized your fly was unzipped for the entirety of your day. But either way, enjoy that moment of just doing as you feel and having the ability to realize sometimes you’re an absolute oddball. After all, if all of us are oddballs, then really none of us are odd at all...  

 

 

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

20 Lessons I've Learned at 20: Lesson Ten

10.      You have the pen that writes your life story.

 

 

If you were offered to leave the country for a month, would you go?

If the plane was going up and you could skydive out of it, would you jump?

If your friend asked you to dance on the table, would you get up?

 

 

 

If you answered yes to all three, congratulations! You have the eye of the tiger as my girl Katy would say. But chances are you probably didn’t. Or you mindlessly read them wondering where I was going with them… But, regardless, I’m not going to preach that you should take every opportunity that presents itself. Sometimes just because you have the ability to take your pants off or tattoo your mother’s name across your chest doesn’t mean you should. But if you do, that’s cool too. The point is that you shouldn’t feel as if you must follow the story society writes for you.

 

I sometimes think when I find the “end-all, be-all” love, it is going to be like a romantic comedy. You know the ones. Girl meets boy. Girl loves Boy. Boy loves girl but messes up. Girl struggles with a decision. Girl decides she still loves Boy. Girl and Boy kiss. The End. But life isn’t a rom com and I’m not Jennifer Aniston. Instead of waiting for life to write my story, I must realize that the paper is in front of me and the pen is in no one else’s hand but my own. If the person makes your heart happy and your wheels turning, let it happen. It's your story.

 

 

Write your story. Cross things out. Make things bold. Write softly, write with meaning. Hell, doodle outside the lines. Just make sure when you turn the last page, you're happy with the memories within the bindings and your name is staring back at you as the author.

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 Six

6.      Never overuse “I'm sorry.”

 

 

 

So you went all Edward Scissorhands on your roommate’s hair in their sleep. Apologize.

 

You thought it would be cool to dye the dog’s hair fuchsia. Apologize to little ole Chunks.

 

You didn’t see a problem in scrubbing the toilet with your sister’s toothbrush. Apologize. (Props to you, though)

 

You said no to spending time with someone who contributes little to your happiness. Go you!

...and don’t apologize.

 

You fought to the end of the world for someone that didn’t raise a finger for you. Don’t even think about apologizing.

 

You looked the person that dropped your heart on your feet in the eye through tears within your own. Do. Not. Apologize.

 

We’ve heard time and time again to overuse "I love you." But overusing apologies has seemingly replaced the love. If we even stutter on a word in a conversation, we apologize. If we even slightly touch someone, we apologize. We are a society of apologetic people who try our damnedest to not make too much of an impression or an impact.

Don’t get me wrong—there are many situations in which apologies make sense, as outlined above. But if you pull through the need to speak softly and act gently, you will feel the pride it took to stand before someone. To stand before someone feeling vulnerable and weak. To stand before someone and look them straight in the eye and spill the pain you’ve tucked away inside for too long. This beautiful sight is in need of no apology.

Apologies have no place in a room full of strength and courage.

 

 

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 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

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