Pearls of wisdom hidden in a dumpster fire
by Lauren Aldridge
Published June 2024

I write this as a freshly minted member of the 30s club, having recently turned 31. Some folks feel at odds with aging, trying to turn back the hands of time to linger on memories past. This was not my experience. The arrival of 30 felt like a cool breeze on a hot day- saying to myself, “phew!” as I looked in the rear-view mirror and burned rubber out of the parking lot of my last decade. I could not wait to be 30.

My first decade of adulthood was like stepping into broad daylight after one has see a movie in the middle of the afternoon- disorienting, overstimulating and more than a little jarring.

I thrust myself into the world with the enthusiasm and delusional naïveté one can only have when they know nothing. I was a clumsy baby giraffe, ricocheting and colliding with everything in my path. I say this with enormous fondness- but I was a hot mess (let’s be honest, I reckon the majority of us were).

The twenties are magical and terrifying. There is a sense of unbridled freedom- coupled with the overwhelm of “where do I go? What should I choose?”. Mel Robbins refers to this as “the great scattering”. It is a confusing time where some of us are defining our careers, settling down, and taking on responsibilities such as mortgages and children, whereas others are day drinking and maxing out our credit cards (guess which category I fell into). I felt like I had many questions and even fewer answers. There was a fierce desire to be- what exactly? I wasn’t quite sure. A wife? A mother? An anonymous nomad living on a beach in the South Pacific? That last one still doesn’t sound half bad. I did not know what lay in store for me, but by God I was determined to find out. I stormed forward- I was like a Tasmanian Devil with a credit card.

I was on a metaphorical tilt-a-whirl, spinning and grasping but never quite filling my cup. I filled it with lots of things, of course: travel, parties, dead-end jobs, dead-end relationships, and habits that both nourished me and starved me to death. I was running ragged by the time I crossed the checkpoint for 30. But I’m so glad for all of it.

It feels reductive for me to begin to describe this fortifying decade of my life as anything less than such. I have fought in the trenches of myself. I have tilted my face toward the sun and- on more than one occasion- gotten burned. My twenties felt simultaneously like a smooth ship upon the open seas, sailing toward an expansive horizon, as well as a knock-down drag out street fight. This decade was full of juxtapositions and contradictions. High highs and low lows. Sometimes it took everything I had in me to simply hang on as my ship pitched to and fro.

After rounding the corner of my most recent birthday, I felt compelled to summarize some of my findings. A chronologic archeological dig, if you will. I have managed to pull gems from what felt like charred rubble for many years. Which, in essence, is the beauty of living- our greatest gifts often lie underneath the shrapnel. I hope this essay offers advice or amusement. I hope some of you read this and think back to your twenties with a similar fond cringe- or if you are still in your twenties reading this, it may offer you some reassurance that we have all been there too.

Here are my findings.

*

---

What I learned in my twenties- lessons and takeaways:

It doesn’t matter what people say. Watch what they do.

People tell you exactly who they are. Believe them.

People treat you the way they feel about you.

You can never say the wrong thing to the right person.

It’s not that they’re toxic, it’s just that they were toxic for you.

Self-compassion heals all.

How to make really, really good eggs.

No one is thinking about you as much as you think.

Going to the dentist is annoying, but necessary.

It’s not about the journey or the destination, it’s about the company.

Trauma is stored in the body and revealed in relationships.

Relationships teach us about ourselves, if we are willing to listen.

Finding a partner/ lover/ spouse etc. is a nice goal, but it’s not the only one. Spread your energy out instead of obsessing on dating apps. You will feel less lonely.

It’s really hard to change behavior once it has become a habit. But it can be done.

We are the total sum of our daily choices.

Sometimes you just need to lay in a pile of warm laundry.

Life will continue to give us the same lessons over and over until we are ready to learn them.

We don’t heal in a vacuum. Lean on your people.

Emotions demand to be felt. Let them in, or they will find other (not-so-nice) ways to come out.

People who love you will tell you the truth.

Overnight success is a myth.

You’re doing great. Please keep going.

Smoking and drinking did not solve any of my problems.

We often only see the end result. Not all the work that went into it.

We don’t fall in love, we fall in respect.

Our gifts aren’t for us. They are for the world.

No one is exempt from struggle.

Riding the waves is a way smoother journey than fighting the current.

Stop searching. It will come. You’re only delaying the process.

Celebrate people and be happy for them. It will be your turn soon.

Everybody is broke. Always offer to split the bill.

*Quick side tangent on money*:

Debt is, unfortunately, an inevitable part of life for most of us at this age (thanks capitalism). Don’t panic- money is a tool and a construct. Pay your bills and do not buy that 4th skincare product. The chest-tightening panic of seeing double digits in your bank account will go away as you grow in your career and financial savvy. Promise.

Things end or people leave in order to create space for something greater.

A happy soul is the best shield for a cruel world.

Sunshine is a natural antidepressant.

We are the stories we tell ourselves.

To my younger self- you were learning when you lost your way. I love you.

The quality of our relationships is a direct reflection of our relationship with ourselves.

Every new chapter will require a different version of me.

Every time I judge someone, it reveals an unhealed part of myself.

Most people are good and kind.

Everybody wants to feel seen.

The things that make me unusual and strange brought me to my favorite people.

The biggest battle we will fight in this life is internal.

Don’t look for the right person. Become it.

Be who you are. People will adjust.

I am the only one who can give me everything.

Do what scares you. It will be fine.

Love comes in many, many forms.

The universe will deliver exactly who and what you need, when you need it. Let go and trust.

Time is fixed, and also not at all.

Wherever the fear is, that’s where your next level up lies. Run toward it.

Karma is real.

*

---

Bonus round: Extra tools in my toolkit

• Therapy. Good therapy, from a skilled therapist you trust. Having a reliable source to reflect yourself back to you is game-changing.
• A reminder that our brain lies to us sometimes, and you should not believe everything you think. Stuck in negative thought patterns? This is a learned behavior and a trauma response, and you should probably take a look at that before you self-sabotage yourself off a cliff (numerous thank yous to my own therapist who reminds me of this constantly- go Dr. Steven).
• Friends. Good friends. People who have your back no matter what. Who will never judge you and will go to the mat for you every single round. To every single magical human being in my life- thank you from the bottom of my heart for being there, picking up the phone at all hours, and for belly laughing with me. You are all perfect gorgeous specimens and I love you all. You are all stuck with me forever.
• My cat.
• Chocolate pretzels and peanut butter.
• Running. Running hard, running slow, running when I didn’t want to and when I was pissed I had to put my shoes on. Running when I felt so good that I thought the skies were shining just for me. Running through my big feelings, through my pain, and finding myself over and over again in the simple rhythm of breath and pavement.
• My big sister.
• My big brother.

---

Life is hard. Full stop. I am still young and have many lessons to learn- some of them will be exquisite, and I am certain many will be brutal. There are many more waves to swim and deeper depths to dive, and my toolkit will keep growing. I will pick up my armor and ready for battle again. But for now, I know the feeling of quenched, satiated joy. A quiet contentment has settled within me, rather than the frantic gnawing of running faster that I am able to keep up. Discovering this feeling has been the greatest gift of my life. I could argue that my pain- jaggedly clinging to me for so many years- was preparing me for this joy. I am happy to know it and walk beside it. It reflects the light back to me in innumerable ways.

To my twenties- please accept this as a love letter of appreciation for the absolute roller coaster you were. You gave me the best that you could. You took me to places I never dreamed of, and never let me stray too far away from myself even when I was in uncharted waters.

You got me to my thirties, and for that I will always love you.

I can’t wait for the next decade.

*