Lessons learned in my 31st year of life:
1. How to let go of worry
I’ve spent the past year and a half receiving mental health therapy (eternally grateful that I have health insurance). Part of that therapy included a class about excessive worrying. One of my most important takeaways from therapy is that our thoughts are not reality. When a worrying thought suddenly appears in my mind, I don't have to wrestle with it. I can let it go like a balloon.
This past year, I also learned about panic disorder, how to manage panic attacks, how to grapple with negative emotions, and how freaking wonderful therapy is. I'm a true believer that everyone can benefit from therapy (provided that the therapist is a good fit). I've also accepted that I'm not sick, broken, or overly-whatever: I'm just a normal human being with normal thoughts, emotions, and problems.
This past year, I also learned about panic disorder, how to manage panic attacks, how to grapple with negative emotions, and how freaking wonderful therapy is. I'm a true believer that everyone can benefit from therapy (provided that the therapist is a good fit). I've also accepted that I'm not sick, broken, or overly-whatever: I'm just a normal human being with normal thoughts, emotions, and problems.
2. Trust yourself
If you feel stressed, respond do that feeling rather than think that there's something wrong with you for feeling that way. When you're at a crossroads and need to make a decision, know that your decision is based on your years of experience on this planet as well as on the guidance of wise elders who have guided you. When you feel nervous about doing something new for the first time, trust that you are prepared enough for this moment and that you will make it to the other side--one way or another.
3. Talk to your friends and family about mental health
Not everyone is ready to hear what you have to say. Some will misunderstand you, others will have their own preconceived notions about mental health, and your friends and family might worry about you more than you want them to--but try talking to them about mental health anyway. Doing so helped me feel less scared about the fact that I needed professional help, opened others up to the possibility of getting help themselves, and revealed to me that some of my loved ones were already on their own journeys of receiving help. Telling my friends and family about going to therapy once felt shameful, like I was admitting to them that I had failed in some way or that there was something "less than" about me. Now, saying that I have a therapy appointment feels as breezy as saying I have a dentist appointment. I can tell I still catch some people off guard when I bring it up. If they have questions for me about therapy, I'm now an open book. Therapy has become normal for me, and I hope it will become normalized for more people as well.
4. Pursue your interests for the sake of your own enjoyment.
For as long as I can remember, everything I did felt like it had to be something worth mentioning in my resume--otherwise, it wasn't worth doing at all. Though I love reading, too often I'd find myself choosing books that came from some cannon that I thought was supposed to make me more of an intellectual, or worldly, or at least in the loop with people whom it seemed I should be in the loop with.
Recently, a friend told me, "do what you love; let the rest follow."
On this year's summer trip, I realize that that's what travel has become for me: something I love to do with no purpose other than to feel joy. My trips aren't leading up to anything. I'm not learning something on which I'll be tested on later. It's not professional development. I'm not even soul-searching with the hopes of arriving at some self actualized destination. I just do it and feel happy about it.
Between endless work hours, my Master's program, doctors visits, Kaiser classes, weekend chores, and feeble attempts to keep a physical fitness regimen, everything in life felt urgent and compulsory. Even sleep itself became less of something to do to relax and more of an investment for an energized day tomorrow.
Everything about travel, on the other hand, feels freeing. When I travel, I feel my mind opening up, ready to drink up whatever a new land has to offer. Many have asked me why I don't somehow capitalize on my experience: why doing I start a travel blog or vlog? help others organize their trips for a fee? write a book on my experiences? Right now, I don't want to do any of that. I don't want to feel like my experiences abroad need to amount to something. I want to travel for no reason.
What do yo do for no reason, other than to experience joy?
For as long as I can remember, everything I did felt like it had to be something worth mentioning in my resume--otherwise, it wasn't worth doing at all. Though I love reading, too often I'd find myself choosing books that came from some cannon that I thought was supposed to make me more of an intellectual, or worldly, or at least in the loop with people whom it seemed I should be in the loop with.
Recently, a friend told me, "do what you love; let the rest follow."
On this year's summer trip, I realize that that's what travel has become for me: something I love to do with no purpose other than to feel joy. My trips aren't leading up to anything. I'm not learning something on which I'll be tested on later. It's not professional development. I'm not even soul-searching with the hopes of arriving at some self actualized destination. I just do it and feel happy about it.
Between endless work hours, my Master's program, doctors visits, Kaiser classes, weekend chores, and feeble attempts to keep a physical fitness regimen, everything in life felt urgent and compulsory. Even sleep itself became less of something to do to relax and more of an investment for an energized day tomorrow.
Everything about travel, on the other hand, feels freeing. When I travel, I feel my mind opening up, ready to drink up whatever a new land has to offer. Many have asked me why I don't somehow capitalize on my experience: why doing I start a travel blog or vlog? help others organize their trips for a fee? write a book on my experiences? Right now, I don't want to do any of that. I don't want to feel like my experiences abroad need to amount to something. I want to travel for no reason.
What do yo do for no reason, other than to experience joy?
5. Take up your fair amount of space, unapologetically.
One of the massively disappointing realizations I've come to recently is that many grown ups in the world are just out there talking the talk and honestly have no idea what they are talking about, let alone know what they are doing. And yet, these people continue to raise their hand and speak up because they genuinely feel that they have something important to say.
Now, that being said, other people are smart, thought-provoking, inspiring, evocative, talented, and wise. Some of these people speak up, too.
I can't guarantee that I'll always be in the latter category, but I'm learning to see myself as equal to everyone around me, not less than. I won't go so far as to manspreading like the stinky, hairy dude that sat next to me on a long haul bus in Poland, but I'll stop shrinking myself in hopes of going unnoticed. I'll ask questions if I'm genuinely lost, even if my question makes me look dumb. I'll state my opinion when it feels important, but also be open to having my opinion be changed after hearing other sides. I'll ask for what I need if I truly need it and let go of any shame or guilt for being a regular human being who needs what she needs.
Now, that being said, other people are smart, thought-provoking, inspiring, evocative, talented, and wise. Some of these people speak up, too.
I can't guarantee that I'll always be in the latter category, but I'm learning to see myself as equal to everyone around me, not less than. I won't go so far as to manspreading like the stinky, hairy dude that sat next to me on a long haul bus in Poland, but I'll stop shrinking myself in hopes of going unnoticed. I'll ask questions if I'm genuinely lost, even if my question makes me look dumb. I'll state my opinion when it feels important, but also be open to having my opinion be changed after hearing other sides. I'll ask for what I need if I truly need it and let go of any shame or guilt for being a regular human being who needs what she needs.
6. Channel your confidence from your areas of strength to your areas of (perceived) weakness.
My therapist put me through a thought experiment:
My therapist put me through a thought experiment:
Him: "What do you mean you're going to travel by yourself? But what if you get lost?"
Me: *Confused* "Then I'll use my phone. Or look at a map." (duh)
Him: "But what if you don't have a map? What if you can't ask for directions because you don't understand the language?"
Me: "Then I'll go back to the hostel and figure it out there."
Him: "But what if you can't get back to the hostel?"
Me: "...then I'll go to the police station." (This has really happened, lol).
Him: "But what if... what if... Ok, I'm being facetious, but maybe you get what I'm getting at here."
Me: "Not really."
Him: "You feel confident about traveling because you know that whatever happens, you'll be able to figure it out. You don't know that you're going to have a perfect trip, free of problems, but you know that if a problem arises, you'll handle it. That's how you need to approach [insert other things that I've fretted about with him here]"
We all have arenas in our life that we are marginally confident about. We all have other arenas in which we feel like a total dunce. I know that I get caught up with worry when it comes to being a good teacher. Ultimately, all I can do is go out there and do my best--and then deal with crises as they arise, one at a time.
7. Laugh at yourself.
I am legit tired of taking myself so seriously. Like I mentioned in lesson #4, I'm tired of resume-building and trying to be somebody. I respect myself, but I also don't mind being dumbest (ok, "least informed") person in the room anymore. I'm tired of trying to prove myself. I am who I am right now. I'll be better one day.
I am legit tired of taking myself so seriously. Like I mentioned in lesson #4, I'm tired of resume-building and trying to be somebody. I respect myself, but I also don't mind being dumbest (ok, "least informed") person in the room anymore. I'm tired of trying to prove myself. I am who I am right now. I'll be better one day.
8. Economize things, but not everything, otherwise you end up squandering the most important thing: time.
Sometimes you just gotta make a decision, commit, and move on.
9. Sadness and disappointment are inevitable parts of your life; your impatience at those feelings doesn’t have to be.
Sadness is real. We don't get to pick what we get sad over. Shame is real. Sometimes we feel shame over what we feel sad about.
I've gotten better at noticing when I feel joy: I pause, bask in it, breathe it in, and preserve it for later. Sadness demands to be felt, too. It's hard to fight off sadness and shame. Some people may be able to suppress negative feelings to deal with later, or never, but I'm not one of those people. I haven't learned how to erase negative feelings, but I am learning to live with them when they come and to know that I'll come out the other side eventually.
Sadness is real. We don't get to pick what we get sad over. Shame is real. Sometimes we feel shame over what we feel sad about.
I've gotten better at noticing when I feel joy: I pause, bask in it, breathe it in, and preserve it for later. Sadness demands to be felt, too. It's hard to fight off sadness and shame. Some people may be able to suppress negative feelings to deal with later, or never, but I'm not one of those people. I haven't learned how to erase negative feelings, but I am learning to live with them when they come and to know that I'll come out the other side eventually.
10. When things aren’t working, give it some time to get better and mull over your situation with a trusted confidant. Then, if it still isn’t working, leave. A situation that works for someone else doesn’t have to work for you. Don’t envy the colleague who has stayed year after year after year when they have clearly been unhappy despite their decade-plus of tenure. Fit is more important than longevity.
I have a feeling that some of my lessons learned this year are similar, if not identical to lessons learned in previous years. That's how learning goes. Sometimes you gotta see the same material again and again and from different angles before it starts to settle in. I may even forget some of these nuggets again, but with practice, some of these new ideas will become more ingrained in me.
- - -
Reflections
Happy birthday, self.
I’m getting to the age where I’d found it tacky for “older people” to make a big deal about their birthday. I’d notice elders seem to sort of forget that their birthday was coming, or not break stride as their birthday passes, or have to do arithmetic, asking “what year are we in?” in order to figure out how old they are, as though no one had been so crude as to ask them their age in the past several years.
And well, here I am at that time in my life when I should not expect any pomp and circumstance for just another day of the year. And so it was.
My surprising disappointment at this celebration that I was supposedly not expecting was super duper annoying, man. Like, I just wanted to play it cool that my birthday went by largely unnoticed. For someone turning 31, my traitorous emotions were acting my shoes size, not my age.
In the days leading up to my birthday, a tiny voice—not mine, I swear— from the fartherst reaches of my mind asked, “what surprise will my birthday bring? I mean, sure, no big surprises, of course, but maybe something itty bitty?”
Click, clack, click. The days leading up to my day clacked by like a roller coaster approaching its summit. My stomach knotted at the thought of leaving 30 behind, but fluttered with anticipation for what was to come.
And the morning came.
And the roller coaster, rather than peaking and dropping, pulled up to the platform.
- - -
That was a long and dramatic way of saying that I felt forgotten on my birthday. A part of me was expecting to hear from close friends even though of course, I know nothing should ever be expected. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but it stung. It took a couple of days to shake it off. In the end, I like to think that I picked myself up and turned it around. Birthdays aren't a big deal for everyone, I always make it a point to greet loved ones on their birthday, even making sure to remind mutual friends to greet the celebrant. I pick up the phone and give them a call to make sure they know that I'm thinking of them and to ask them what they're doing to celebrate.
I was in a complicated situation--I was abroad, I had a different phone number on me that no one else had, and my actual birthday was spent apart from loved ones. What did I expect? I like to think that I received some birthday messages via text that never made it to me, even after putting my old SIM card back in. I also tell myself that had I been in town with loved ones that they would have done something to help me feel loved on my special day.
In the end, I went all out for my own birthday. They say "always date your spouse" as a way to never let your relationship with them go stale. But how about "date yourself"? On the night of my birthday, I got dolled up and hit the town in Warsaw. Even after a full day of exploring, I took a shower, put on a dress and a full face of make up, and made reservations for one at a nice restaurant. The online reservation form had a line where you could tell them if you were coming to dine for a special occasion, so I figured I'd tell them.
When I arrived, I was greeted with a birthday aperitif. I felt special already! I then ordered an appetizer of rabbit, a main of duck with corn bread, a wine pairing, a dessert made of chocolate and pineapple and basil and wafers and pure magic, and a Polish coffee (third drink of the night). My server then surprised me with a final glass of sparkling wine. I wined and dined for a solid three hours with no one but the company of me, myself, and I. I'm used to eating alone during my travels, but I've never had a full evening of gourmet dish after gourmet dish at a romantic restaurant, where multiples servers wait on me hand and foot to the sweet melodies of an Italian opera. Happy birthday, self.
Anyway, that's enough about turning 31. Here are these past two years (because I skipped this bit in last year's birthday post), in landmarks:
In my 30th year:
In my 31st year:
I was in a complicated situation--I was abroad, I had a different phone number on me that no one else had, and my actual birthday was spent apart from loved ones. What did I expect? I like to think that I received some birthday messages via text that never made it to me, even after putting my old SIM card back in. I also tell myself that had I been in town with loved ones that they would have done something to help me feel loved on my special day.
In the end, I went all out for my own birthday. They say "always date your spouse" as a way to never let your relationship with them go stale. But how about "date yourself"? On the night of my birthday, I got dolled up and hit the town in Warsaw. Even after a full day of exploring, I took a shower, put on a dress and a full face of make up, and made reservations for one at a nice restaurant. The online reservation form had a line where you could tell them if you were coming to dine for a special occasion, so I figured I'd tell them.
When I arrived, I was greeted with a birthday aperitif. I felt special already! I then ordered an appetizer of rabbit, a main of duck with corn bread, a wine pairing, a dessert made of chocolate and pineapple and basil and wafers and pure magic, and a Polish coffee (third drink of the night). My server then surprised me with a final glass of sparkling wine. I wined and dined for a solid three hours with no one but the company of me, myself, and I. I'm used to eating alone during my travels, but I've never had a full evening of gourmet dish after gourmet dish at a romantic restaurant, where multiples servers wait on me hand and foot to the sweet melodies of an Italian opera. Happy birthday, self.
Anyway, that's enough about turning 31. Here are these past two years (because I skipped this bit in last year's birthday post), in landmarks:
In my 30th year:
- NYC & Baltimore
- Start Master's program at SFSU
- San Diego three times
- New Mexico
- El Paso
- Move to Oakland Chinatown
- Host Edward and Kevin
- Host the Angeles family for Christmas in Oakland
- Start therapy
- Get an abstract accepted to an international conference in Seoul
- Vegas
- Seattle
- Chicago
- Norway
- Sweden
- Say goodbye after four years of teaching at AIA
- Hawaii
- Scotland
- Wales
- England
- Northern Ireland (solo trip)
- Ireland (solo trip)
In my 31st year:
- Start teaching at HNHS
- NYC & Baltimore
- San Diego four times
- LA
- Mt. Rainier
- Grass Valley
- Asilomar
- Chile
- Argentina
- Host Edward, Kevin, Ate Kate, Tin and Paul
- Philippines
- Meet up with Noey twice
- Vegas
- Orange County
- Hawaii
- the Netherlands
- Belgium
- Luxembourg
- Germany
- Poland (solo trip)
- Czech
- Hungary
- Croatia
