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 

complaints → blessings.

 

Complaints are something we speak each day; they are uttered beneath our breath, struck through our brain, and yelled in times of desperation. From insignificant to life threatening, gripes and complaints slip from between our lips without second thought. But what if we turned every complaint we have into a blessing? What if we could shift our thinking from garbage to gratefulness?

Instead of focusing on the chilly temps, let us say thanks for being affluent enough to afford a coat.

Instead of cursing from beneath our breath about a spilled stain, let us be grateful for the kids God has blessed us with who create them.

Instead of furrowing our brows at early morning alarms for work and school, let us say a prayer for being fortunate enough to have a job and a means to education.

Instead of letting the housework overwhelm, let it remind you of just how lucky you are to have a roof over your head.

Instead of feeling guilty for eating that last bite of chocolate lava cake, feel grateful you are fortunate enough to eat. (And feel gracious enough to share a bite… with me…)

Let the discouragement motivate.

Let the curveballs teach.

Let the complaints say thanks.

And let your heart open to every day’s disguised blessings.

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