Shaking ass through the pain: On 27 ripping me to shreds, and 28 teaching me to simply have faith.

This past summer I turned 28-years-old, an age that has continued to feel very “real” yet very “unreal” at the same time. I’d always known that I’d be 28 one day and that I would be living my life as an adult but I could never actually have guessed that this would be what life would have looked like. After all, I had just wrapped up my 27th year, probably the most intense year of my life. I had never felt more hopeless yet certain that if I just leaned into faith that things would work out. But this realization came after a year of life that completely ripped me to shreds.

At 26, I felt like I was seeing a path being laid out before me. I had this idea about life and about where I should be and how I could possibly get there. And at 27 I began to take steps toward this path that felt so clear. If I had to compare it to a physical pathway, I would describe it as wide as a sidewalk, with trees shading either side and a slightly steep hill that had another side that I couldn’t quite see. It was lush, it was green and as I took each step further, it felt as though the sun radiated even harder, the birds chirped louder, the wind swayed even more gently amongst the leaves on the trees. I had a vision, and I started walking towards it and it felt like the path supported that vision. 

And then I turned 27 and professionally, interpersonally, romantically, and spiritually I felt like I was stretched to either end of every single spectrum possible and that path grew murkier and gloomier with every single step. Professionally, I felt burnt out and completely done with the classroom, but I couldn’t get past this intense aversion to leaving for good. Interpersonally, I felt really grateful for the community that I’d cultivated, but also this intense tension with the requests that I was getting to do more, lean in more, and friendship harder. Romantically, I experienced an intimacy that felt spine-tingling on the ascent, and soul-crushingly humbling on the descent. Spiritually I felt more aligned with myself than ever before and like I was listening to the exact communication that my body and God were sending me, and then one day everything flipped on its head and what I once felt/desired/knew had left me. I began to wonder if I knew anything of what I was talking about at all. The path no longer felt so green, so light-filled, so aligned - but now felt more like an alleyway. And as a person who has never been super afraid of my surroundings, I was spooked. 

And then I turned 28 this year on the gloomiest summer solstice of life that totally felt like a representation of my feelings at that moment. It was the longest day of the year, right at the turn of Spring into Summer, and right in the middle of what turned out to be a beautiful sunny, warm week. But this day it was cloudy, raining, and chilly. Before knowing that the weather would turn, I had decided to spend my birthday at the lake, and I’m glad that the friends that gathered to join me in celebration decided to push through the gloomy weather anyway. We sat, snacked, libated, laughed, reflected, and grew emotional. My friends wrote me dares to complete during my 28th year of life, and my parents even popped up at the lake to say hi and to drop off a gift. And then we packed it up and walked back to our cars to depart. But in the most aligned, divinely-guided fashion, as we were wrapping up the walk back to the cars, one of my friends stopped and asked if he could pray with/for me. Feeling like exactly what I needed in that moment without me even realizing it, I disclaimed that I was totally going to cry, but I knew it didn’t matter. Because a few seconds later, there we stood on the corner of a Hyde Park block, in the rain, hands held in a circle, praying for me for this next year of life. As the prayer ebbed, it seemed like the spirit called for it to flow again, and flow it did. What felt like stopping points quickly pivoted into other aspects of life to pray for and before I knew it I was reduced to tears, sobbing at this moment that felt like what had been missing all along. The prayer came to a close, hugs were exchanged alongside, “be safe!” and “see you next time,” and we went home.

And the rest of the summer as I transitioned out of 27 and into 28, I was “shaking ass through the pain” in the words of Sza. The emotional turmoil continued in every area of my life, despite turning a new age (shocker, right?). The discomfort felt like the lining of my stomach was covered with velcro and that with each inhale the velcro was attached back to itself only to be heaved apart at every exhale. It was heavy. But I wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to commune, to laugh, and to feel - even if just for a few hours. I worked a summer job that helped heal the parts of me that had felt like I would never have a relationship again with a boss that felt good. I helped my Bestie Cousin / Sister finally get to marry her love and had the chance to reflect on the depth and interconnectedness of our relationship in front of family and friends. I watched with joy as friends set up pop-up shops and birthday festivals, performed at Open Mics, and invited me to +1 to events - I still love being the +1 who kind of creates, but mostly enjoys experiencing the creations of others. I crossed the finish line of the planning process of my family’s bi-annual Family Reunion and helped to ensure the good time of 100+ family members from across the country. I took many trips to the lake, swam in the cool water, and visited the lagoon in the neighborhood when I remembered that it was there. I took two spontaneous road trips which helped me realize that I don’t actually hate a long drive - at least not right now. I got yelled at (meow-edition) by my cat for being so moody,  and yelled back. I learned that she’s not an emotionally supportive companion, but definitely a “get over yourself and get your shit together” companion.  I fielded calls from my boss who kept asking me if I was returning or not, and I kept it quiet that I had applied to 35+ jobs, and had interviewed at 4 (got a “FUCK NO” from one, but that’s a story for another day). I celebrated the first PhD in my family and got to imagine what life must have been like when my Dad and his cousins were running around Luella. And in the downtime I cried, I completely abandoned my hobbies, I started and didn’t finish many books, I didn’t write, and I didn’t journal. But I did sit with my thoughts, and I did feel the tear and mend of the velcro as I breathed. And when appropriate, I even let myself be crushed by the sadness that sat heavy like a 75-pound weighted blanket - just until the next chance that I had to be lifted by community. 

And somewhere in there, I came to realize that even if nothing worked out, everything would be fine. Professionally, if my plans failed and if I ended up back where I was desperate to leave while awaiting that next opportunity, it was fine. Interpersonally, if I planned to lean into friendship even harder when I had the capacity after my life settled a bit, it was fine. Romantically, if I ended up just dating for the sake of dating for a while, or not dating at all, or even just let myself wonder if it was possible to feel a spine-tingling alignment again but this time without the crash at the end, it was fine. Spiritually, if what was once a path of ease turned into a path in which I couldn’t see past my feet, I knew that if I just trusted that my next step would land regardless of it not being clearly visible, it would be fine. And eventually that 75-pound weight began to feel more like 30, that cloud began to dissipate, and life began to feel like it would probably be okay.

And okay it seems to be. Despite the fall lovers desire for fall to come quickly, it’ll be in the 80’s for the next week until the season of Summer officially transitions into Fall next Sunday, September 22nd. And as the summer rolls to an end, I feel a bit more settled into what 28 might continue to feel. To me, this age has felt “real” in that I’m a bit more grounded in reality and what’s right in front of me. I’m deciding for my future self, but also much more attentive to the self that exists and is typing this right now. This age also has felt “unreal” in the sense that while life looks different, it doesn’t look unrecognizable. Professionally, I’m still teaching just a new school in which breathing is easier, and there is much less front-loaded professional struggle. Interpersonally, I’m still ebbing and flowing in some friendships, but realizing that ebbing and flowing doesn’t always necessitate endings. Romantically, I’m wondering less about the spine-tingling connections, and am more concerned with shared interests, hobbies, and lifestyles. Spiritually, I’m spending a bit more time with God, and am getting back into the swing of journaling and reconnecting with myself. And the path feels as though it’s more akin to a walk down my neighborhood block at night time. I’m still looking left and right, but I’m recognizing buildings and cars, and I’m running across neighbors who are checking for me even if just with a “hello” and a “hope you’re doing well.”

I’m taking the shreds of self that 27 left me with and am patching them back together. My sewing skills aren’t good enough yet to use the machine I’m inheriting soon, but I know my way around a running stitch and a backstitch. And as I continue on in 28, I look forward to practicing what it might feel like to continue to trust and have faith that things will be okay if I just let them.