Today is my last day as a 36 year old. As each year passes, I tend to look back at the lessons learned, laughs laughed and tears cried that each year has brought me. And year 36 did not disappoint.
I think I have experienced more growth this past year than some in recent memory. I left the only job I’d ever known to start a new career path. That was one of the hardest but most rewarding decisions of my adult life, a real leap, a lesson in growth. I replaced my adorable blue toaster car with a brand new fluid metal sedan. And poor blue had quite the ending running straight into the car in front of her. Yet it was another step of growth. I attempted to date with more intention than ever before and though my single streak now continues, I learned so much about myself, how I communicate and what I’m both ready and not ready for. Growth.
I watched my mom fight cancer and once again demonstrate her unfailing strength. I watched my dad grow in his volunteerism, joining a crew at Church where he fits perfectly. Both overcoming fears and struggles, both true examples for me every day.
I completed a second marathon and learned that I will never do that again. I continued to learn how to be an ally to some of the best people I know, who also happen to be some of my closest friends. With others, I stayed out too late, both laughing and crying at the ridiculously random places we’ve gone and people we’ve met.
I jumped into a leadership role with the nonprofit that gave me community during some of my hardest days, hoping I can bring light and love and support for those now walking the lonely road of infertility.
I said goodbye to the very best dog and companion ever and cried more tears than I knew possible. Letting Dory cross the rainbow bridge to a life free of pain taught me it’s ok to let go and cherish every snuggle with present awareness.
I played more trivia and pop-a-shot and pickleball than years before, and I learned I’m pretty average at all of them. And I’m totally ok with that. I visited the pool and hottub, working each time to fully embrace the body in the low cut one piece, quietly confident and hiding myself all at once. Slow growth.
There’s so many more lessons and instances of growth from year 36, and I practice daily gratitude for everything I go through and everyone I meet. I’m a pretty lucky girl to have some of the best friends, family, and communities in the whole wide world. They all come with me into year 37.
This morning I imagined what 36 year old Amelia would say to 37 year old Amelia. Here’s what I heard:
Dear 37 – Live big and dream big. Go for it. I believe in you. With love, 36
So here’s to 36 and all she brought. I can’t wait for 37. Let’s do this.
Pressing On 