The Old Me
growing up is humiliating
Dearest BedHeads,
Welp I guess real life has officially started again. We can run but we can’t hide. Since we last spoke, I officially turned 30, and I took a minute to take stock of where I’ve been and where I’m going, the things I’ve learned and, more importantly, the things I’m still unlearning. Perhaps 2024 is in fact, as the prophet Kylie Jenner once said, ~‘my year of realizing things’~.
Growing up is painful primarily because it is, quite frankly, humiliating. There’s nothing more humiliating than a past-self. In fact, a past-self is a prerequisite for humiliation to even exist. We do something in the moment, and that version of us that did the something immediately calcifies into a past-self that will forever haunt our present-selves, taunting and reminding us about what a moron we once were. Hell, I’m even embarrassed of the person I was one week ago! What was that outfit? Why did she confide in that person she just met? Why did she think that third glass of wine was a good idea? Why did she lie when it was completely unnecessary, why did she talk shit about that person she loves, why did she stay home when she could have shown up, why did she post that badly Facetuned picture, why didn't she appreciate how cute she once was? I could go on forever. I wholeheartedly believe that if you don’t have a visceral gag reflex when your past-self comes up, you’re not doing enough self-reflection.
That said, I admit the line between self-awareness and narcissistic self-annihilation is fuzzy. How do you stay open to honest feedback and criticism but not let it swallow you entirely? Often I become paralyzed by the regret of it all. Being my own biggest fan one day and harshest critic the next gives me whiplash. But being haunted at three in the morning or in the shower by our youthful humiliations seems basically inevitable, doesn’t it? It’s so easy to fuck up out there, on average I humiliate myself at least once a day, and what’s worse is that they still haven’t invented a way to wipe our former faux pas’ from people’s memories after they happen. They can’t even wipe them after we’ve learned from them, grown past them, atoned for them, have no further use for them, etc. Once again, we can run but we can’t hide. I sense a theme emerging.
Given this frankly ridiculous arrangement that is life and growing up, I’m often resisting the urge to batten the hatches and hide for all of eternity: nobody moves, nobody gets hurt, vibes. But when I sat down to retrospect upon turning thirty, I realized that lately I’ve been having more and more days where I feel like I might actually know and (even scarier) like who I am. I remember not too long ago sitting in therapy, crying because my identity felt so unstable. I felt like my depression or sheer humanness made it so I was a different person every day. I either hated myself or loved myself, I was a good friend or a bad one, I talked too much or didn’t talk at all, I was honest or a liar.
Something that helped me was learning not to hate but rather to embrace the and. AND, more importantly, I learned the beautiful and occasionally infuriating fact that two truths can exist at the same time, that we’re all a mess of dichotomies spinning on a giant rock. Despite how humbling it can be, working on myself was and is the best investment I made in my twenties. Learning to stop trying to change people, work around other people’s less-than-stellar attributes and how to modify my expectations is the greatest gift I’ve ever given myself, and for the first time I’m starting to feel my years in therapy might be paying off…some days. I think I know who I am, and more importantly, I know who I’m not. And knowing that has been just as if not more freeing. Finally I can stop chasing the things that are out of reach for me and start cultivating what’s really mine. It is with a great feeling of joy and surrender that I can report — I no longer even want to be the woman I used to wish I was, back in the depths of that treacherous decade we call the twenties. I wouldn’t trade places with that naively idealized version of myself for all the money in the world.
I leave you today with a few of the tidbits of knowledge I’ll be keeping with me as I move forward into my thirties, and if there are any BedHeads out there who are still adrift in the seas of self-annihilation, deep breaths, babies. In the meantime, here are some lessons that cost me ten years and a pretty penny to learn in therapy, for free, just for you. Take’m or leave’m.
Feelings can be just feelings. You don’t always have to do something about them. You don’t have to react, fight, fix, think somethings wrong with you, or confront someone just because you feel something uncomfortable.
Don’t buy into trends. Especially if that trend is those studded Valentino heels or thin eyebrows
You have to wet a Mr.Clean eraser before using it (you’re welcome)
Mean people are unhappy people. Hurt people hurt people.
Gifts work.
People show love in the way they want to receive it
Everyone goes through at least one friendship breakup that still haunts them. Outgrowing a relationship doesn’t mean somethings wrong with you.
As my dad says, when the shit gets bigger than the cat, get rid of the cat. (can apply to friendships or any relationship)
A weekly, guilt-free-bed-rotting day is a necessity (emphasis on guilt-free)
Combat avoidance whenever/however you can.
You can’t do anything right with the wrong person, and you can’t do anything wrong with the right person
Sometimes our outer world and inner world have nothing to do with each other. Even if everything is going “right” in your life, you’re still entitled to feel sad, lonely, numb, or angry
“I’m sorry if…” or “I’m sorry you felt that way” aren’t real apologies
The only person worth comparing yourself to is your past self. Fuq that bitch.
Coziness is next to Godliness
Be grateful your parents are still here to drive you crazy
Binary thinking and labeling (good or bad, right or wrong) is dangerous and should be avoided
Two glasses of wine is great, three not so much
The pain you feel today is the strength you feel tomorrow
Sometimes you should go to bed angry; wait to see how you feel in the morning after you’ve slept a little
The days/weeks/months of your life that feel the most uncomfortable are often when you learn to find comfort within yourself
Nothing gets you further from cool than chasing it
What’s meant for you will not miss you
Ask yourself if you like a person before you spend several hours wondering if they like you
Most of the time people are too consumed thinking about their shortcomings to pay attention to yours
Rejection IS protection, period.
There is a huge gap in the market in the shape of a humiliating-memory erasure device
I’ve come a long way, but still have so much road to cover. Maybe this year I’ll learn to send thank you notes in a timely manner, and maybe even send those friendly, post hangout texts. “That was fun! Let’s do it again soon! Xx” But I’m not holding my breath.
On Monday you’ll get a brand new screenshot dump so stay tuned for that and have an amazing weekend, hopefully doing nothing with no one.
Godspeed,
Jade