If your twenties were a shaky handheld camera, what if we projected the decade as a cinematic film...what would we see? A blurry motion, bad decisions, dramatic zooms on every heartbreak — then your thirties will be that moment someone finally steadies the tripod, adjusts the focus, and lets the light in. Suddenly the picture is sharp, the colors are true, and you realize the film was always yours to direct.

They talk about it like it’s the edge of a cliff, but you’ve survived enough to know what matters: had the job that crushed your soul; the love that taught you your own edges; the friendship that ended over something stupid and the one that endured something worse; paid rent in three different cities, cried in the airport bathrooms of different countries, learned which apologies are worth giving and which deserves silence. You’re no longer guessing who you might be; you’re becoming it, in real time.

Your body changes. You learn its language. You discover that strength training feels like armor, that sleep is a superpower, that dancing in your kitchen at 2am is pure joy. You stop hating your thighs for existing and start thanking them for carrying you up mountains. You finally stop asking for permission to be who you are. You wear the bold lipstick, take the sabbatical, start the business, dye your hair, get the cat, get the dog, move to Lisbon for a year, say the unpopular opinion, write the book, end the situationship, begin the adoption process. You do it because you can, because time has taught you that regret weighs more than fear.

Throughout all of the losses, I believed I’ve gained what I needed. Whatever didn’t belong to me had to be released in order to receive the things that are waiting for me. The people who couldn’t stay, the people I had to leave behind, all of the money received then wasted, my belongings taken from me because I didn’t take responsibility for my life.

These are the things I regret, and I'm at peace with saying that. Regret is just the moment of wishing it never happened. Recognizing its radical truth allowed the reality of how life operates and I would have never seen this when I was 21. All of the things I thought about were packed away inside of an attic. It was collecting dust but it wasn't going away. It kept showing up in my life without warning and the more I ignore it, the worse it becomes. Now when I sit in the hollowness of it, I reinforce myself to do better, make better choices, and stay vigilant on the things I need to take care of. These are the things that no one is going to or can take care of for me.