The older we get, the more important the type of questions we ask ourselves become.
At 26, I’ve spent the past 2-3 years of my adult life reflecting on the girl I was in my teenage years. Looking back, it feels like, at this “big” age, I’m still a big kid. I’m constantly being put up to the plate, facing conundrums around insecurity, fear, guilt, anxiety, dating, ideas of success, work-life balance, faith, and evaluating my self-worth. These quests of previous seasons seem to have a different urgency and impact – more pressing now than ever.
No one tells you when you're a teenager, geeked to adult, thinking you’ve got it all figured out, that this is not all it’s chopped up to be. Adulting comes with freedom – but that same freedom comes with layers of responsibility. The decisions we make in our 20s and 30s inform the latter years of our lives, and what they look like.
I went for an annual check-up recently, and my doctor reminded me that these are the years of our lives when we can mitigate our risks against most health issues in our family lines. If taking time to care for our bodies and health during this "prime time," is when we have a fighting chance against major health complications – what could it look like to give ourselves a fighting chance, mentally and emotionally, for the years to come?
Disclaimer, this post is not to paint a picture that's just easy. It’s not – the shhhhhh is hard… and it takes heart work. I can’t neglect that diverse factors (socio-economic, environmental, mental/emotional, etc.) affect the points in our lives where we discover avenues for change. I also can’t neglect that the adult adolescent years of our lives are where we get re-acclimated with ourselves, developing a sense of trust and confidence. A lot of that comes from the decisions we make.
This post is a reflection, inviting you to sit with me on an important reality: our choices can have a long-term effect on the rest of our lives. And, when we recognize the loops and patterns of our behaviors, desires, and whatever lies between, we’re presented with a divine opportunity to address dissatisfaction, discerning where shifts need to take place.
My end-of-year book is Dr. Meg Jay’s The Defining Decade: Why Your Twenties Matter & How To Make The Most Of Them Now. It’s a book that is keeping me in a posture of redefining, and continuously determining integral things for myself. More specifically, I'm looking at how this grown-ish version of myself wants to approach some of the most valuable areas of my life. This book has empowered me, as I navigate one of the most challenging times of my life.
After my position was terminated at the end of August, I grappled with my job “losing” me -- even in a community-based (youth-focused) position I enjoyed. This change caused me to assess if I was satisfied and what I could do to make a difference. Being terminated, led to a series of leaps that I needed to take: relaunching my blog, developing business ventures, undergoing professional development, and accepting independent contracts – all while trying to make time for the personal and private matters I want to honor in between independent projects.
A lot right?
It might be.
But it also feels like one of the most rewarding times to create a life for myself that I’m proud of; to build a practice rooted in community, culture, and creativity, that I love; to recklessly pursue my passions, growing more and more confident in my choices; and enjoy the fruit of this lil life of mine, while exploring and expressing the manifestations of my heart.
To me, my sense of urgency about life comes from a lot of loss, grief, disappointment, death, and vulnerability. All of those taught me how fleeting life can be. We hear the phrase, tomorrow’s not promised all the time. Shouldn’t knowing this prompt us to move more responsibly? You're not alone if you sometimes fall into the trap of taking life for granted. We get so tied up in our frustrations and feelings that we miss out on the moments that show us the greater grace (and mercy) we get to experience. The greatest blessing is that I get a chance every day to navigate the deep press and strong pull of life, discerning what’s critical for the care of my soul.
This idea of a “defining decade” has been crucial in every stage of our adolescent and adult lives. But in our 20s and 30s, we have the agency to change the tide – if we are aware of the direction it's turning. It’s the first time in our lives, for many of us, where we’re in charge of making so many decisions. These choices can range from what we’re going to eat for dinner to who we’re going to build a family with. Sometimes it’s daunting. But this a key time in our lives when we’re empowered to heal from the past, have the potential to transform our present, and begin re-shaping the stories for our futures.
I was introduced to this concept at last year’s ministry series from Progressive & Salem Baptist Church called Defining Decades. Dr. Charlie Dates took us through a series of teachings & guests/professionals (like there was a liscensed therapist as a guest y’all) for about 7 weeks. We talked about everything from anxiety, friendship, sexual satisfaction, escapism and coping, to entrepreneurship, and even self- discovery. I loved this series because it was an opportunity for a group of young adults to seriously consider the choices we’re making in our 20s and 30s — and how they set a tone for the decades following.
It was also a charge for me to continue to face myself.
Honestly, this process started when I moved to Paris, in 2021. At 23, I’d been led to ask necessary questions about my role in the outcomes of my life and the impact my choices, memories, and experiences (good or bad) had on me. There I was moving across the ocean – during one of the biggest transitional periods of my life, away from everything familiar, isolated and often alone -- having to confront myself. This shift’s impact on my relationships, required me to take advantage of the state of separation, birthing questions like:
How am I showing up in my relationships? Is it a performance?
Why am I performing – and where does that come from? Is this that people-pleasing sh*t?
Why do we talk so much? What are we even talking about? Does it matter to me?
What memories or experiences have I had that were rooted in emotional or physical trauma?
How have I compartmentalized or compromised myself for relationships?
I’m so silly. When did I get so serious? How could someone “so close” not know ME?
How can I show up with no filters?
Is this enough for me emotionally? Why not?
What the hell do I want?
If I want change, what am I going to do about it?
How do I like to receive love and support?
We are not growing. So… What are we doing?
My journey will often be lonesome. How can I invite others to show up alongside me?
What does it look like for me to prioritize community & relationships that I value?
How can I honor showing love & effort in the relationships of those I love?
G, do you even like them? wHaT iS It To LiKe?
My faith means nothing to you because I’ve acted like it meant nothing to me. Where have I drifted?
What do I need to apologize to myself for?
Writing this post, I pulled out my journals of thoughts and prayers – reminiscing on the girl I once was and what I was navigating at that time. I recounted some of my most vulnerable moments, where I asked myself questions that I need to. Looking back through the entries, the questions didn't initially lead to answers or profound revelations. But they did unlock doors, with matters behind them that I needed to investigate. For some of those questions, I didn’t have the tool kit to answer on my own. However, I did learn to lean into my community in ways that were healing, taking up space to show up vulnerably, leading me to answers.
Some of those questions, I’m still answering — revisiting what this period sparked in me, while honoring who I’ve evolved into. Regardless, all this exploration came from curiosity and interrogation, which eventually was met with transparency. Sitting with myself long enough to uncover and re-discover things about myself that were rooted in my childhood, family dynamics, and miseducation, I had an opportunity to address myself. The inner child, and the big ole adult too.
This transparency planted a seed of boldness. In the video above, Dasia talks about “tolerance levels” and how experiences/memories from our pasts have the capacity to shape our tolerance and intolerance in romantic relationships. Her theory can be applied to any area of life – and what I’ve learned is that time spent in solitude allows us to become confident in where we stand in private, so we are empowered to stand on these same findings in public.
When I was abroad, I had so much time to myself – not just writing in a journal, but experiencing life. I was able to relearn, unlearn, and learn so much, opening my eyes to what I’ve accepted and how I viewed myself. My experiences have influenced my tolerance/intolerance for pain, dissatisfaction, honesty, inconsistency, pleasure, decisiveness, and so much more. I’m grateful for this time because without it… I wouldn’t be who I am today – and damn am I proud of it.
Dr. Meg writes,
“The stories we tell ourselves become facets of our identity. They reveal our unique complexity. All at once, they say something about ourselves, our friends, our family, our communities, and our cultures. They say something about why we live as we do from year to year.”
I'm here to ask us, again, and again, and then again: Do we want our lives this year to mirror the next year? Should this season look like the next? If it doesn't have to, how can what we do now inform the next 5 years, let alone the next decade?
The beautiful thing about the discovery process is it's meant to be our own.
When we choose it, even if we’re not ready for what will unfold, there will come a time when we have the wisdom to understand, appreciate, and steward it well. Coupled with the sweetest assurance, you’ll find yourself releasing a desire to act out of fear, a false sense of urgency, or socio-cultural pressures. Encouraged to sit, pray, meditate, think, take a break, and make peace with what we need to – even if we’re still asking questions, and discovering their answers.
When I was younger, not being “free-spirited” in certain areas of life made me feel like I was lame, missing out, or behind the learning curve. At the same time, leaving this territory open and unclaimed, allowed for experiences and memories to shape my confidence and clarity. Now, in my mid-twenties, I'm reminded that I can unsubscribe to how I’ve shown up in ways that didn’t serve me in the past, redeveloping new standards for who I am now.
I might end up doing a post when I finish the book — but I wanted to write this post to encourage someone else to surrender to vulnerability. When we are real with ourselves, revering and valuing our truth, we require the world around us to do the same.
Practically, it doesn’t have to look like a journal entry. It can look like:
Venting your frustrations to a stranger on a subway.
Sharing something that you hold shame or guilt around with a friend who makes you feel safe.
Keeping the promises you make to yourself, first.
Letting tears flow over g.o.o.d eats, leaning into vulnerability when you need it most.
Taking that long walk that Jill Scott talks about – preferably with trees & scenery.
Focusing on your breath while you're in a workout or physical activity.
Going to events/spaces where you can find your tribe (likeminded folks who embrace YOU).
Trying the things you’re scared of/ have always wanted to do.
Sending up a prayer, in honesty & full transparency of where you are now.
Talking through or expressing your confusions – getting it out of your head somehow.
Phoning a friend – even if you’re in different seasons, lean into the ones that give sound wisdom.
Returning back to a thought/comment that rings in your ears – not to ruminate but to make productive decisions (around how your response can empower you without pride, guilt, or shame attached to it in the long-run).
Exploring yourself in ways that show you how FUN you are & how FUN life where you are, can be.
How it happens shifts all the time. It's making it happen, that is all the more important.
When I was creating a home for myself abroad the challenge became: getting to know myself and getting critical of myself. It gave me the strength to run towards challenging, productive, moments that require me to be real with myself first. I was able to value intimate moments with myself, to come to discoveries about who I am, why I am, who I’ve become, who I want to be, and how I can start moving today to get there.
As I started finding my village, exploring the city, making decisions around what I wanted, and learning myself anew, I felt confident in inviting my community at home and new friendships into conversations about things I was discovering. These musings ranged from thoughts about myself to the world around me, but prompted a shift -- in a direction that felt hard at times, but thrilling. It’s these thoughts that led to decisions to let go of situations I’d outgrown, grow confident in my voice, trust myself, take my faithwalk more seriously, and let my heart be restored in the process.
This chapter of the book on “Dating Down,” inspired this post, prompting reminders that we can’t be scared of the hard questions: the questions we don’t feel like we know the answers to or the ones we know the answers to, and don’t want to face. Often, we don’t know how to get at the root of these questions which is where a really great therapist, prayer, and self-seeking comes in handy. But desiring to have it all figured out, is entrenched in perfection and performance, a double-minded concoction only rendered powerless against transparency and authenticity.
Dr. Meg speaks to her client Cathy, who spent so much time seeking to be desired that she neglected her own desires & desirability. The stories she was telling herself, about herself, looped silently in her mind – without her ever considering where she wanted to change and how she’d evolved.
Fiddling through drafts from our adolescence, can expose the stories that have formed our identities, which is where the greatest potential lies. It becomes an opportunity to experience transformation, laying inaccurate versions of ourselves to rest. So much has transpired between then and now, it won't always fit us to move off of old conversations and experiences.
The questions we ask ourselves allow us to grow as our minds become renewed in new connections, conversations, and experiences – even if we have to create them for ourselves first.
These inquiries are important enough for us all to take great pause before we act.
With that, I leave you with this: To experience joy, peace, and contentment in your life, what does your life need to look like? How do you want it to feel? And what actionable steps can you take, right now, in the direction to get there?
Remember, exhales are our friends.
Take what you need from DasiaDoesIt, Zora Neal Hurston, Twitter, and Me:
Inhale. There are years for questions.
Exhale. There are years for answers.
Inhale. The pressure to act out of desperation, is not mine to own.
Exhale. Nah, that can wait. I can wait.
Inhale. I can face the hard questions, even about myself.
Exhale. I invite growth, transformation, and mind renewal.
Inhale. Therapy doesn’t mean I’m broken.
Exhale. It's ok to need a break from all the mental fighting that I do alone — without always having the toolkit to reframe my mind.
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