#8: A decade of trying to figure out the things I couldn't explain
Turned 30 last month, a rite of passage which wouldn't be complete without a self-indulgent commentary on my 20s
Turning #30 last month suffices as adequate rationale for the sad fact that this draft has been sitting in my dashboard for the last month. It’s also feigned justification for a perfectly rambling dissection on what I am, who I was, and who I (desperately) seek to be. Before I dive into that though, let me just gloat about how amazing 30 feels. Less floating, more swimming, and definitely more diving.
“In art there is only one thing that counts; the thing you can’t explain.”
Georges Braque
Quoting Braque as my lead-in for an analysis of my 20s - scoffingly classic. I’m the first to admit I’m a closeted Cubist. Geometry was never my favourite mathematical discipline and it feels almost too pragmatic to enjoy an art form that is based off reducing and abstracting most life experiences to polygons. Making some sweeping simplifications here but I’m 30 now, isn’t that what this new decade can be about? Confident assumptions.
In any case, fitting that I do quote Braque because in a way, this is what my 20s were - figuring out the things that I couldn’t explain. In my 20s, I found myself asking a lot of really rational questions about happenings, which at the time, felt irrational. But lofty first lines aside, I think about my 20s as really starting at age 18, moving away from the only child cocoon of my life and to the political buzz of Washington D.C. Now, 12 years later, I think about the trials and tribulations of my 20s as just that - trials and tribulations. Many were had. Some moments were painfully difficult, some exhilaratingly more rewarding than I could have ever anticipated.
#1 - There may be more than one way out…but the best way out really is through
College for me was a meeting of the most brilliant minds inked with a feeling of “infiniteness".” So many of my friends, like me, were policy wonks - all of us in search of figuring out not only our role in the world but what the world could be. We studied hard, and we worked even harder - interning and finding short-term jobs at many of the political and multilateral institutions that only such a diplomatic hub as DC could host. But academics aside, we also had fun.
The personal and emotional rollercoasters of our early 20s also felt like driving in peak hour traffic from Ortigas Center to Makati - chaotic, emotionally confusing (lol), and yet an experience, I now know, we just had to undergo. Sure, we were committed young intellectuals who knew how to figure out our professional pathways in all of the logical ways. But the personal and romantic investments we chose to make - those were overwhelming and frankly, perplexing.
I was admittedly a lot less outwardly bold in the personal sphere of my life through my 20s. There were many moments I’d attempt to solve my way out of dilemmas (especially ones of love) by posing a series of incessantly rational questions to friends. I thought by asking as many questions as I could, I would somehow just “get it”. As I reflect on these moments, I now feel like I could have just experienced a lot more by doing. But in other ways, I’m glad I situated myself in these inundated lines of inquiry, filled with promise and enveloped by patient friends who assured me this was just the process.
#2 - Try on another pair of shoes
That was a big part of my 20s too, learning to put myself in someone else’s shoes. I’ve always been obstinate and stubbornly loyal. Character flaws, we all have them. They sometimes double up as our superpowers. While the determination’s served me well in pursuing my professional passions, it’s sometimes been the same wall that has made me see intangible things as all about the outcome versus the process. Learning to put myself in someone else’s shoes especially in matters of heart, and especially during less monochromatic decision-making moments, was a humbling reality check on my pre-conceived notions of the depth of love and connection.
I can’t tell you how many times a friend of mine has gone through something difficult (grief, divorce, a bad breakup, a burnout etc..) , especially in the last few years. I can tell you that in more instances than one, I’ve been overly protective in trying to cushion the pain. This sometimes has meant vehemently dissuading them from an impulsive decision. But what I’ve realised is more often than not, the friends who have made these impulsive and seemingly “unwise” (in my head) decisions have been the same ones who’ve supported me during similar moments of my own. They’re also the ones who’ve fallen hard but gotten up even quicker. They’re the ones who have shown me what resilience can look like, that even with splinters, we’re still whole.
So, I know now that you really love someone when you can just silently support them even if you don’t entirely approve. This doesn’t mean that you stop worrying about them. It just means you’re holding space, and standing in the glorious chaos that may or may not ensue. I’m still anywhere between 40-60% obstinate but I’m 100% more comfortable trying on someone else’s shoes, taking a walk (or a run) in them, and maybe buying the same pair for myself too.
#3 - Learn to appreciate wordless conversations
On a related note, I recently saw Choy Weng Yang’s “Colours of Emotions” painting series in Singapore. Far from Braque but equally poignant and insightful. And it’s all about how colours don’t exist in isolation but instead reveal their vividness through interaction. That’s how I feel about my 20s. So many colourful years, each as reckless as they were purposeful. So many learning moments. A lot of confusion. And then I found real love, at long last, at age 27. The type of love that’s consuming, intense, kind of surreal, and twisty in its own way. It was the light bulb moment of realisation - that someone could be entirely different from me and yet be the one who understood me best in the world.
When you feel that type of love, you find yourself at a loss for words more often than not. There’s probably a lot of irrational things you’d be willing to do because whatever you’re feeling…it is really that good. I’d find him asking me things so profound that my feelings felt louder than my words. So I would smile, and glance. And he knew.
How humbling it is to be 27 and learn that one of the best types of conversations is the kind where there are no words exchanged, and no words that could describe.
So take this as a reminder to appreciate the silence and smiles of when you say nothing at all (Ronan Keating’s version obviously).
#4 - Listen to the observers
People you meet will often observe things about you or around you that you may not want to admit. When you’re in a difficult season, they’ll be the ones who point out that the vibe check is off. They’ll also be the ones to give you unsolicited advice on how to change it up. You (or I) will likely feel frustrated at this advice that you (or I) certainly don’t need.
Sounds basic…but listen to them. Or at least that’s what I learned. During the darkest moments, the light is always there - you just need to open the curtains. Or let someone else open them.
During my recent trip to New York, I was sitting at an endearing dive bar at midnight with my best friends. We spent about an hour pouring our hearts out on all regrets and realisations about our careers, our love lives, and our self-identified character flaws. It was the morning after this existential deep dive when I realised that the most meaningful friendships will be the ones that teach you that someone else can know you better than you know yourself in the moment.
Try to not take it too personally when your best friend tells you that your relationship isn’t bringing out the best in you. Or that they think you need to get more rest. And remember when they tell you that they think the world of you, and want the world for you. They’re being real with you because they think you need more natural light in your life. We can all do with more Vitamin D.
#5 - Be bold in filling your cup
The most memorable decisions in your life aren’t always the easiest to make. They also may not be the ones that bring us the most joy in the immediate moment. But make these decisions anyway.
Be bold.
Let go of the person you deeply love if they’re not making you happy. Love makes the world go round. Alas, the truest of love cannot fix a fractured spirit which seeks not to be fixed.
Leave that job even if you’re killing it. Being comfortable isn’t always the way to feel fulfilled.
Start that random AF project even if it means less “free” time on the weekend. Fear not, that power nap you crave will always find time on your schedule.
Get that coffee (and a pastry) with the stranger you met at an event. Sugar with a side of intellectual stimulation keeps the doctor away.
Remind your friends and family how much you love them every chance you get. Doesn’t make you trite, just makes you grateful.
Have a crush. Or multiple. Unabashedly confess that you like them. Feelings trapped in fear never did anyone good.
Why? Because you can.
That cup is waiting for someone to fill it. That someone is you.
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So now that I’ve reached the other side of my 20s, these are some of the lessons I now have words for. I notice new colours in my emotions like I never did before. And while it has taken me 6 weeks to finish this piece, I can affirmatively say I’ll be scribing more lessons in my mind in the years to come.