Reflections on 28 and a Decade Abroad

I’ve been reflecting on a couple milestones recently.

The first is that 2018 marks ten years since I first left the States. 10! A whole decade! What was meant to be “just four months in China” turned into a full-blown gap year turned into…an entire adult life spent overseas.

The second is that I turn 29 this month. The big 3-0 is very clearly in sight now — and with it, the end of what has quite obviously been my favorite decade so far.

I was sharing these musings with a friend recently during a long roadtrip through the mountains of Colorado, and ever the contrarian, he immediately countered: “But that’s such an arbitrary number, isn’t it?” 

Well yes, and the second Sunday in May is pretty arbitrary too, yet every year that becomes national Call Your Mother Day. Sure, I should tell my mom I love her more frequently than when society reminds me to — but as with anything in life, when routine sets in, appreciation inevitably falls to the wayside.

What I’m saying is, sometimes you need arbitrary markers and anniversaries to remind you to pause, step back, and assess.

So I’m like the football coach of my own life right now, drawing Xs and Os across the chalkboard of my 20s: that worked and can stay; that needs some tweaking; that preposterous play I should never attempt again. (There….are a few of those last ones.)

Fresh off the boat: China, January 2008. I had no idea what I was getting into.

Currently, I’m at the end of a seven-week tour across the States. It’s the longest and most extensive trip back I’ve taken, and being “home” in a country I haven’t considered home — physically or mentally — in ten years has found me doubling down on the contemplation.

And surprisingly, it’s led to a jarring realization: I am so content with who I am right now.

Something about being back in the US forced me to change my parameters of comparison. Prior to this I’d been in the midst of my usual post-Olympics identity crisis, aka overwhelmed by indecision on Where Do I Go Next and How Do I Feed Myself and I Am Maybe Too Old To Be This Indecisive. 

But this trip was about visiting the oldest of friends scattered across the country (we’re talking elementary & middle school era here) — meaning for the last few weeks, I’ve surrounded myself with those who’ve known me almost exclusively pre-expat.

And maybe in stripping away the pressure I constantly put on myself to meet new people, explain my life story, create new communities, and move ever forward forward forward — without constantly thinking about my external presentation, I had the space to reflect internally on who I’ve become.

The 10-year mark in January coincided with the end of my time in Wellington, and since I left New Zealand (or also quite likely, because of it), I’ve noticed a monumental shift in my personality. I’ve become outspoken in a way that no longer feels terrifying; I’m bold because I am, not to mask deep-seated insecurities or front that I am A Bold Person.

I’ve become more likely to stand up: for myself, for what I believe in, and to people with whom I disagree. Gone are the apologies and accommodations tossed out like candy just to keep the peace.

I am finally making space, and taking space, and chasing what I want without fear of derision.

Career-wise, this has been huge; imposter syndrome lives out back and no longer gets a seat at the table. I spent the better part of a week finally writing a proper CV and LinkedIn (and updating this blog’s About page, while we’re at it) and seeing ten years of work, in an industry I love, distilled into two pages of bullet points made me realize I’m quite proud of what I’ve accomplished. I no longer feel like I’m hustling for roles I ‘don’t deserve’.

For someone who’s spent over two decades struggling with a lack of self-worth and confidence, to be this comfortable and sure of myself as a human being feels incredibly gratifying.

So even though my ongoing third-life crisis and I are so close we have a standing brunch date, I’d say currently I’m more like a reverse duck: paddling haphazardly above the surface about my immediate next steps, but underneath incredibly at peace with where I am, and where I’m going.

I’ve made the most of my 20s and know whichever city I end up in the next few months, I’ll feel like I belong there; whatever I’m doing, I think I’m going to crush it.

Bring on 29!

Over to you: Was there a milestone year where you finally felt like things clicked? Is it true your 30s get even better?