30.

I turn 30 this week. I don’t even know how to register that sentence...age now takes a different form in my mind. Instead of future years being compartments with defined contents, endings and beginnings, they are now fluid. You can do things at 25 that you “should’ve” done at 21. You can be 29 and feel like you’re 18...and simultaneously 40. There’s no limit to the things you can and can’t do at most any age (law permitting, of course).

Last year I was at a formal manager meeting for work where we did an icebreaker, and had to say one important thing we’ve learned up until this point in life. I was the youngest in the room by at least 5 years and was wondering what my contribution would be. I get anxiety having to speak off-the-cuff in groups and while they were moving down the line there were varied answers of “don’t be afraid”, “take chances” and “follow your dreams”; my mind was swimming with thoughts.

"What will they think?"

"Will this make sense?"

"Is this too deep for 9:30am on a Thursday?”

In the end, I overcame the internal struggle and answered, “one of the most important things I’ve learned is that the older I get, the less I know. Life has been a consistent unraveling of everything I ever thought I knew”.

Oof. Did I mention it was 9:30am on a Thursday?

Looking back, to soften the perceived grimness I probably could’ve tied it up with “...life has been a consistent unraveling of everything I ever thought I knew...and creates chances to weave my own patterns.” But as they say, hindsight is 20/20 right?

I got a few surprised looks and a few thoughtful “hmmms” and “ohhhs” and nods. A brief moment where the statement sunk in for reflection...and then they moved to the next person. There was no visible “a-ha!” moment for any of my colleagues, but I felt the satisfied feeling of going with my grain and saying what I needed to say. It was true; the script of life had been rewritten in my mind as I deconstructed certain pillars of success and life progress. Perhaps I'll write on these pillars soon. At my age I did feel like I knew less, but I felt wiser and more confident in what I did know, and more open to the unknown.

That trend of unraveling continues; this year it was my faith. I confronted what I grew up with and how disconnected I felt from it, and I began asking myself the questions that I had either never thought to ask or had been too afraid to answer for myself previously. I have no conclusions, but I have the start to something that feels more solid and “with my grain” than the starter set of my childhood. I anticipate that it will be an ongoing journey, and I am excited to make it my own.

This morning I was talking to the barista at the coffee shop down the street and he said "how does it feel to be turning thirty?", as if bracing himself for my outburst of tears or outrage or subtle desperation at another year gone by. I just replied "I don't know!"...and then, with a smile, "I like getting older". How am I supposed to feel? Would I want to wake up as my 13-yr-old self, a la Jennifer Garner? Probably not. Aside from the physical reminders of hard hangovers, back pain and creaky knees, I don’t know how else I’ll feel the delineation of 30. But one thing I do know is that I do like getting older, because each year I know myself better and become a better friend to myself. And I will always look forward to that.

Thanks for reading, friends :)

Enjoy the view.

Hi, friends. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately (and recovering, from a bad cold). Even though it can knock you down hard, I always appreciate reminders to rest. I also appreciate the reminders I've gotten from a book I've been reading called Designing Your Life by Bill Burnett and Dave Evans.

One of the exercises in the book involves writing out your workview and your lifeview, and then finding where the two intersect. Are they aligned? Are they different? Reflecting on these types of questions can help you to address any disconnect you may be feeling. I'm really enjoying the book so far and I wanted to include my answers below:

Workview:
Why work? Part of my answer is "because it's what you're supposed to do", but I've always loved work. Work has brought me tangible feelings of success and I thrive within structure and expectations. I think it's a great place to discover your talents, form relationships with others, support people and contribute to the processes of society. I love helping people love their work more and feel more confident in it.

Lifeview:
Life. Life has meaning to me. Love is real, it changes people. Kindness makes a person's day. We all have crap and we're all just trying to figure it out...and it's important to leave room for people to surprise you. I love people and relationships. I love my alone time too but I am brought to tears by the kindness, intelligence, humor and love of other people. They are amazing. They are intimidating. They are vulnerable. Beauty and color bring me life; the way they can combine in lovely arrays and provide a breathtaking moment both fleeting and joyful. My faith is in the good of humanity. My goal is to help people find the best in themselves; to honor and explore that and use that to ignite everything they do.

I'm making moves to further align my Workview and Lifeview, and I'm excited and terrified. My motivation is to be continually evolving and not stagnant. And hopefully I can dedicate my time to helping people be their best selves at work, which will hopefully extend to life. More to come, friends.

"I won't always know where I'm going, but I can always know whether I'm going in the right direction." - Designing Your Life

Brainstew.

I am currently sitting in Odell Brewing in Rino, sipping on water and enjoying some Green Day (did you catch the title? Very fitting). I am full - today was a great day. It started off with making monkey bread and planning a trip to Boston (I CAN'T WAIT!). Then I drove up to Thornton, visited my parents and had a good chat about life with mom. One of those cleansing kinds of talks that involve tears, hugs, understanding and love. It ended at Odell with a friend/coworker to talk work and life with a background playlist magically curated to us; mostly pop punk/alternative goodness from the early 2000s. I'm not going to lie - I'm the most discombobulated I feel like I've ever been and sitting on the edge of one of the most unpredictable years of my life. But I cherish these moments where it feels like it's all going to work out...(it is).

I'm used to living a templatized life. I have 4 older siblings who have lived life 8-15 years ahead of me, so I felt like I "knew" what to expect in terms of kids, marriage, etc and there would be no surprises. But what I'm realizing is that I was witnessing their lives, and they would still differ from my own. And there would be PLENTY of surprises. I'm used to validating my life against other people..."they did that and it worked out, great!" But I'm venturing into territory that is uniquely my own, and I'm simultaneously terrified and exhilarated. It feels like me, but with no one else to "validate" it but myself, it feels somehow "wrong". I'm learning that this isn't the case with help from a lot of supportive people in my life. And I'm so grateful for that.

I will end this with a letter to 2019.

Dear 2019,

How are you today? I'm doing pretty well. (This is how I write letters). I'm excited to be here with you. I feel like you will know the me-ist version of me. Are you ready? I feel like you will involve a lot of change, excitement, love, tears (of anxiety and joy), and a lot of unknown. I'm ready for it if you are. Let's do this. :)

Love,

Katie

Beyond the binary.

I had a realization this morning...I often think of things in my life as either one thing, or another thing. If I'm not successful at work, I'm unsuccessful. If I'm not heading in a specific direction, I'm lost. If I'm not full in all aspects of my life, I'm empty. My mind has always been a friend to the gray and the in-between, but I still find myself trying to fit into the black and white. The idea of the black and white has an enticing structure when I feel like I am lacking solid footing.

But let me tell you, my life post-college has been anything but black and white.

School was easy, relatively speaking. Make good grades, be nice to people, and you will get validation of who you are as a person. (If I'm not getting A's, I'm failing. If I'm not making my friends happy, I'm a terrible friend). Everyone likes the nice person who can help them on their homework, right? College was an exciting and adventurous change, but still within a structure that was simultaneously terrifying and familiar to me. (Choose your major, choose your life path. Choose wrong, and set yourself up for a series of wrong choices). It made sense for a time...at least until I wasn't in it anymore. Then it was like the Wild West.

How many identity crises are you allowed to experience as a person? Because if there is a quota, I've likely hit it in my twenties. Since graduation, I've tried to grasp whatever sense of stability I could by continuing to seek validation from everyone but myself. How does _____ feel about my choices? What would _____ do? Does _____ like me? It was always comforting to know that I was heading along the "right" path, aka one that other people agreed with me on. The problem is, that path is the most unstable it can possibly be.

Similar to the feeling that you get when you realize your parents don't have all of the answers, I had a realization that other people don't have the answers to my life. They can have all of the opinions and advice in the world, but in the end I'm a different person than they are, and the only one of "me" they will ever know. So to give them ultimate say on what I do would be doing myself a disservice. They probably also don't want that responsibility.

And also, their feelings about everything around them (including me) are constantly changing and have almost everything to do with them, and nothing to do with me. If it has something to do with me, then they will hopefully say something. I do not have to read their minds, which is a relief, because I am usually wrong.

So, back to the drawing board. How do I find stability and flexibility within myself? The answer: start with more headspace. Listen. Leave space in my life and my thoughts for the in-between; open my mind to a curiosity of what is and what could be. Life is not black and white, and I'm learning what that means for me.

I want to live my life from the inside out.

"The world will tell you how to live, if you let it. Don't let it. Take up your space. Raise your voice. Sing your song. This is your chance to make or remake a life that thrills you."

-Shauna Niequist

Goodnight, friends.

Blue Skies.

It is strange and scary when you realize what or who you assign your value to, and how much. I'm so used to hanging my value on others...but that is precarious. It's like I hang it on a tiny nail in a door that swings constantly with the wind or accidentally gets shut by someone who's careless or moves too quickly. And just like that, my value moves and shakes and falls.

I have a hard time being present, but when I give others permission to determine my value and worth, and they unknowingly drop or shatter it, it seems like that's the only moment there is. That's the only life that ever existed, that time spent with that person or those people. Forget the previous decades I've lived, THIS is my life. Everything else was nothing.

Obviously, that's not a fair way to go about that. Not fair to myself or others.

I have lived 29 years and I feel like I have the fear of a 29-yr-old and the knowledge of a 5-yr-old. I usually say that the 20's feel like a constant unlearning of everything I ever thought I knew. But in a good way...often painful, sometimes inspiring, sometimes terrifying...but overall, good. I used to live like the world was the solid thing and I was fluid and unknown, but now I feel more solid and the world feels more fluid. I can find some stability within myself amidst the unpredictability. I like that.

And then there are nights like tonight, when I'm reminded that when I'm tired and worn down and sad and afraid, my strength dwindles and my mind goes to not great places. A weird headspace. Fragile headspace. Toxic headspace. I feel the need to balance everything to feel in control and instead feel out of control. And night is unforgiving.

And these nights will happen, and that's ok. But I've learned that instead of dwelling in this place, it is time to drink some water, put on comfy pajamas and go to sleep. There are no battles to fight today, only rest. There will be a better tomorrow.

Goodnight, friends.

Dear 23-year-old me.

People normally write to their 16-year-old selves. The thing is, when I was 16, I still had some semblance of structure in my life. I was going to finish up high school and head to the same college that most of my older siblings went to, and then my life would probably magically unfold for me after that.

But 23, that’s a different story. At 23 I was done riding the graduation high, and I was past hope that I’d find a decent job right out of the gate. The structure I had gotten so comfortable in for about 17 years suddenly fell away, and I was expected to immediately be an adult. Enter: the first of about 80 identity crises. Not to mention that my most useful class in my entire school career from a practicality standpoint was “quantitative reasoning”, which taught us what math could look like in the real world. That insane college tuition was totally worth it, right? RIGHT?!...*eye twitches*.

Let me set the stage: I was working at World Market in suburbia and living at my parents’ house, still trying to swallow the hard pill of not getting out of college with a salaried job and money in the bank. My low point was considering being a family counselor at a cremation company in the strip mall 10 minutes away; even more defeating was the fact that I probably wasn't even qualified with my B.A. in Psychology. Far from college friends, I tried to find a "new" set of friends in close proximity. I also tried going to church consistently for some semblance of comfort. But I was ultimately was still focused on guys and what people thought about me.

In reading my old journal entries, I just wanted to give my 23-year-old self a hug. This one entry particularly disturbed me:

"Here I am; manipulative, selfish, inconsiderate, lost, striving, overwhelmed, bitchy, hypocritical, UNWORTHY. I am disgusting, vile, nothing of my own doing is good. Or at least that's what I feel like. Every good thing I have is You [God]. Every good thing I am is You. I don't deserve friends, happiness, generosity, or anything...and yet You bless me with it every day."

I've seen a handful of posts with that dialogue and it doesn't feel like me. I was just a scared, lost post-grad who wanted a boyfriend more than anything and sought value in other people constantly. I wasn't a horrible human; I still focused on being kind and loving, even if it wasn't to myself. The fact that I wrote "vile" and "disgusting" among other descriptors is sad and almost humorous because it sounds like something out of a radical sermon. But that's really what I felt like...I was so overwhelmed with my life that I "surrendered" it. Turns out that still meant feeling everything, wondering why it wasn't changing, and feeling helpless and out of control.

Looking back, what would I say to that girl?

I would tell her she's more powerful than she could ever imagine, and she deserves to be heard. Her contribution is valuable. I would tell her that she deserves a guy who's interested and friends who feel like sunshine. She doesn't need to mute herself to let others shine; it's not a zero-sum game. Everyone matters, including her. 

I would tell her that no one gives a true crap about pivot table skills in advertising for entry-level positions. I would tell her not to waste too much of her time chasing that stupid flaky wedding photographer, that apathetic guy from church or that close-minded and judgmental dude from high school. Although each of them have helped shape her in the rock tumbler of life, I would tell her that eventually those people would fade away and new, more amazing people would come in their place.

I would tell her that it's ok to question her faith, and she should dig in and question it more even if the answers weren't the ones she grew up knowing. That she would still be ok.

I would tell her to talk back to the critical voice in her head and say the opposite to startle it into silence. I would tell her that it eventually starts to speak less and less, and knows it is not welcome.

I would tell her that the satisfaction of her days would be measured less by how many guys talked to her or checked her out, and more in lattes, books, laughter, words, hugs and tiny details.

I would tell her to stop hiding. And to not define herself by paths already taken by people in her life. She has everything to contribute, and is her own person but also a beautiful combination of interactions with everyone else.

I would tell her I love her, and that it will only get better.

And I am so thankful for that. At the end of my 23rd year, I found an internship at an advertising agency that would jumpstart the next 6.5 years of my life. I moved out of my parents' house down to Wash Park to have a whole new set of adventures. I learned more about what it means to be me.

At 29, things are better still. I have so many amazing supports in my life, I've created 3 roles and elevated my career, and I am living in Denver. It's definitely not all roses; I often ride an emotional roller coaster and am scared for some big changes that I want to make, but I know that my 35-year-old self would say: "I love you, and it will only get better".

Thanks for reading, friends.

The Women's Locker Room

I'd like to take a moment and talk about the womens' locker room at the gym. I find it fascinating, and not just because there are always the token older ladies who don't give a damn and just walk around everywhere completely naked (can I please be you when I'm older?).

I went to a class at 6am before work this morning which is out of my norm. And I say "out of my norm" to emphasize the fact that I am not normally this ambitious; I'm much more of an evening workout person when I go. But it's interesting to see the difference between the pre-work and the post-work locker room buzz.

There is something unique that happens in the morning in that locker room: bodies of all shapes and sizes and so many morning routines come together. Fresh-out-of-the-shower faces and wet hair seem to be a portrait of vulnerability; you see the face behind the face that everyone sees on a day to day basis. We all spend so much time getting ready in the mornings, putting ourselves together for another day out in the world. What does that entail exactly? Well, it's different for everyone.

As I stand at a long mirror blowdrying my hair to "Katie standards" (7 steps below actually dry but 3 above "I fell into a fountain"), I'm next to a woman meticulously curling her perfectly dried hair. In the mirror across the way, another girl does spiral curls with a straightener. Which I will someday teach myself how to do from Pinterest. Other girls just wrap their wet hair up in a bun (you go, girl).

Then comes the makeup. My makeup includes my staples from Target, nothing fancy. I don't really notice anyone else's makeup but what I do notice are the blank slates that everyone presents to the mirror. I can feel the vulnerability myself as I perform a routine typically performed alone in front of my own bathroom mirror. Not insecure, but aware of all of the different approaches we take to the day. It almost feels like we're all bonded together by that experience before taking on the day; we've all seen each other sans makeup as strangers, wrapped in a towel with hair undone. We ourselves are undone, but in a comfortable way. A liberating way.

And I really appreciate that about the women's locker room.

People, Places, Things.

Sometimes it is just crazy to me what a wealth of memory we have. Memories tied to places, places tied to people and you're left riding on waves of nostalgia...sometimes exhilarated, sometimes nauseated, and maybe somewhere in between. Where did the time go? It's a reminder of the depth of life, and especially the depth of your own.

This past Saturday, I went shopping at the mall with my close friend Andrea. We walked by Dillard's and were reminded of a time during freshman year of college when we went to go try on prom dresses and take pictures for the heck of it. As we remembered back on this and stared at each other with a gleam in our eyes, we decided, "why not?". We each picked out our favorite and least favorite dresses and decided to have some fun with it again.

We somehow managed to pick out the same dressing room, and jokingly took a few pictures. Strangely enough it wasn't until we were back at our cars and looking over our old pictures from 8 years ago that I got a tangible reminder of where I had been compared to where I am now. And all of the feelings that came along with that.

In hindsight, I was really insecure and had no self-love back then. Everything I was, everything I had could be changed and in my mind needed to be changed if life was going to get to where I wanted it to be. There was a finish line, and ultimate physical beauty (and everything that came with that benefit) was at the end of it. To make it there seemed like an impossible but necessary feat.

Now, I know myself, and I can truly say that I love myself. Instead of focusing on a finish line, I'd rather focus on the present moment. I have a relationship with my body that is nurturing instead of hateful, and I have a confidence in what I do and who I am. Is that 100% of the time? No. Life isn't perfect but I wouldn't trade this grounded feeling for any sort of re-do of the past.

To say that I am grateful overall for where I am now compared to then is an understatement, but I am learning to appreciate the journey more and more. It is those memories that remind us of our immense depth and strength. We are not just that 9-5 drag, or that terrible work meeting. We are superheroes jumping off of the fireplace with blanket capes. We are the awkward middle schoolers writing notes to our crush. We are the brave ones heading off to college or a new job or a new place. We are the "new kids" trying to make friends, who eventually do make friends. Really good ones. We take risks, we excel, we love, we hurt, we breathe, we create. We try on prom dresses at 26 (or maybe that's just me).

It reminds me of a Rumi quote that I love:

Don't forget your depth, friends. Cheers to you, and to this rare day.