Finding Freedom at the End of my Twenties

The other day I celebrated a birthday. Here I am, another year older, in the final year of my 20s. My friends and I have talked extensively about what it feels like to be almost thirty. The truth is we like it. 

We feel more confident in who we are, more settled in some ways, definitely more sophisticated and healthier. In our twenties we have had different jobs, gone back to school, had relationships that blossomed and relationships that failed, and we have grown into woman that we like and that we want to be friends with. 

Yet, as much as I feel like a confident and sophisticated 29-year-old woman, I have to admit that I still sometimes struggle with really owning who I am. Dating kind of makes you realize how confident (or not confident) you are in who you are. I have found myself often worried that I am “too Christian” or “too divorced” or “too tall.” I get nervous that I will be defined by something that in and of itself I am not ashamed of, but that perhaps other people would like me to be less of. I begin to hide these pieces of myself that define me, out of shame or fear of rejection. 

I will go on a date or talk to a new friend and automatically be preoccupied with the thought that they will find this blog and never speak to me again. It's crazy, I know, but it is the story I tell myself. I believe that my honesty about my story via this blog is vital because it tells the hurting people in the world that they are not alone, that I have felt it too, and that there is a light ahead. It is something I do not because it is fun, but because I hope that my vulnerability will be a light of hope that so many are desperately and quietly grasping for. But when I go on a date, I secretly hope that my blog won't show up when they search for me on Google. Haha :) 

I worry, sometimes, that I will be judged harshly for my story. Often I feel like a part of my story, which has impacted me but perhaps given me more positive characteristics than negative, is a piece of the story that I always have to try and hide. When I am dating I leave it out. When I am in a professional setting I worry that it influences how capable people think I will be at my job.

And I hate that. I hate that this one thing that happened to me sticks a little voice in my ear that tells me lies about what other people think of me. The lies say that people will assume that I am broken or irreparably damaged, that they will think I have too much baggage.

But the truth is that all of the people that truly know my story don't think of me that way. 

They know that my story is not one of brokenness, but of the utmost resilience. The truth is that this part of my story is what makes me brave and strong. That experience is part of what makes me confident in who I am and compassionate to those in hard times. It gives me perspective on the pain of the world and the greatest hope and positivity, for I have seen the pit and I know that there is a future beyond it. That part of my story gives me depth, and I shouldn't have to hide it. 

I would be lying if I did not say that I wish my divorce had never happened, but I think I would be remiss if I hide that part of my story in a corner with my head hung in shame. My experiences have made me a better, stronger, more solid and happy individual. And that is a beautiful thing.

As I walk through the first few days of my 29th year, I hope that I can learn to throw away shame and hold my head high as I talk about about my deep love for the Lord and His goodness in the best and worst times. Perhaps some boys won’t want to call me back afterwards, but that’s ok. This is a beautiful story of overcoming and I am proud of the woman that it has made me to be. 

You know, all of the good books have highs and lows, characters who are equal parts fierce and afraid. Complexity is what makes us human. Sharing our complexity is what connects us. And I would much rather be full of depth and complexity than a boring silly girl on a date. 

So here is to 29. May it be full of beauty and honesty, complexity and joy. 

And perhaps a boy that thinks my story is part of what makes me great. :)