What I Learned In The 2010s
I’m honestly kind of surprised that I made it to the end of this decade. I mean I’m generally healthy, low levels of the bad cholesterol and no chronic conditions that can’t be addressed with a regimen of prescription drugs and therapy. I’m also smart enough not to get killed in a dumb way. Like if someone who knew me tangentially were to read that I stepped off a cliff trying to use a selfie stick at the very least they would probably set down their paper and say to their spouse, “Huh” with genuine, if not overwhelming, surprise, before continuing on with their day.
But this fucking decade. The third full decade that I’ve been alive for, has been particularly… intense. In my life, but also in the world around me. Did you guys notice all the stuff happening? So much stuff.
So here I am, standing on the other edge of the chasm of the teens, far from unscathed but verifiably still alive (stick a mirror under my nose. I did.) Some of the crazy has been normal growing pains, some have been charmingly specific to my set of circumstances and choices, but either way I want to take a sec to catch my breath and share some of the things that I’ve learned between the ages of 21 and 31.
Just dress warmly enough. Notably I learned this one AFTER I graduated from college in Boston, the Siberia of the eastern United States. I look back at my layering habits that, at the time were a series of misguided sartorial choices mixed with a stubborn streak. Now, as I layer scarves like a crazy person for the ten minute walk to the subway each day I’m happy to concede some of the range of motion of my neck to be able to move about in the outside world without all of my muscles locking up in anticipation of my imminent hypothermia.
Other people feel things as much and as deeply as I do and that I have a responsibility to consider that. Technically, I knew this one well before 2010. I went to Sunday School every week (not happily, but I checked the box) I had parents who insisted we not become shitty people. But as someone who spends a lot of time trapped in her own head, I don’t think I really realized how much my words and actions could affect other people for an inexcusably long time. For so long I felt like my suffering was trapped inside myself, bouncing off the walls of my head and multiplying within the safe confines of my body. I was concerned with how I felt, because for a lot of my life it was terrible. And on some level I was under the impression that I couldn’t possibly be capable of causing other people the level of upset that they, and the world as a whole, caused me. I said some really insensitive things, inserted myself where I didn’t belong, didn’t insert myself when I should have, and generally put a version of myself out into the world that, while not completely evil, didn’t meet the level of integrity that I should have insisted from myself. It took me torpedoing a couple of relationships with extremely good people for it to really sink in that I was capable of making significant waves in other people’s lives. I can’t say it won’t happen again, but I do feel a step removed from that period in my life now. It feels like progress.
Sincere apologies are really important, and modified behavior moving forward is even more important. (see above)
People generally don’t actually want to hold a grudge. (see above)
My financial situation has been a significant part of my anxiety disorder: The proof is in my anxiety slightly tapering off in the last couple of years as I finally started to make enough money to live like a normal person here.
My financial situation isn’t all of my anxiety disorder: The proof is in me still having it.
It’s “mother lode” not “mother load”.
Doing it yourself isn’t always cheaper. In the last ten years I’ve lived in… actually I just started trying to count how many different apartments I’ve had in the last ten years and I keep getting bored and losing count so that should say something. In that time, the internet has expanded and presented to me myriad apartment decorating blogs, all promising to make the most of my small space #onabudget. And to be fair, I’ve gotten some solid tricks out of the constant bombardment. But not all of them actually save you money. And sometimes, you don’t realize that until you’re spray painting a drawer pull three different shades of gold and it’s looking really fucking wrong so you check to see what you can get online and it turns out Amazon is selling a set for less than the cost of the cardboard you spread out on the floor.
It’s “burying the lede” not “burying the lead".
If, at your core, you don’t actually want to be doing something, you can’t be really good at it and you won’t stick with it for any real length of time. Like editing Foley, or woodworking, or dating guys you’re only kind of into.
I’m going to be about the same size for the rest of my life. I have been fluctuating within 10 pounds this entire decade and at this point I expect to do so until I die. It’s nice to count on things.
I am not going to be tan. Any amount of tan I’ve ever been could’ve been accomplished with SPF 90 and some strategically applied bronzer and will be achieved moving forward thusly so as to avoid skin cancer and minimize shriveling.
Sexism is still really bad. This one is sad. The 2010s was when I moved into the Career World where you’re supposed to cultivate a Career and be a Career Woman, and I was really hoping that sexism wouldn’t be as potent by the time I got here. But no luck. I’ll immediately check my privilege and say that I am not bearing the brunt of this. People of color are still fighting an unacceptably steep uphill battle in the world (same with the queer/non-binary community, and basically anyone else who is at all interesting.) But over the years even I have been overwhelmed by how often and how carelessly I’m talked over, how many men took credit for my ideas, and how many MWM (*mediocre white men*) have succeeded for no discernible reason around me. We have work to do.
Not everyone wants the same things out of life. Success looks extremely different for everyone. People who I may have quickly judged as “settling” are often living very deliberate, extremely happy lives while I hyperventilate into a paper bag on the daily and avoid wearing open toed shoes on the subway for fear of rat borne illnesses.
I look best with really short hair. I’ve known this in my soul for a long time. The whole concept of a pixie cut waltzed into my life in the form of Samaire Armstrong appearing as Anna on The OC. Or maybe it was Rachel Leigh Cook’s PSA where she smashes an egg with a frying pan to get kids not to do drugs. Either way, a seed was firmly planted in my scalp in the early 2000s. But before I could be absolutely sure that this was my ultimate destiny, I had to spend some serious time fighting it. Now I live blissfully in an Eden where every six weeks I pay a suspiciously reasonable price for an extremely cool hairdresser to do literally whatever she wants, which is always a variation of Very Short Hair and I’m here for it.
“I Will Always Love You” was originally a Dolly Parton song, and she wrote it the same day she wrote “Jolene."
I am a financially responsible adult. I was hoping this would happen but also ugh it’s so boring.
You can live a really full, fashion-conscious life without wearing heels. I’ll do a wedge, or a super chunky one on occasion but life is too short for foot pain.
Making people laugh will always be an important part of my personal and professional life.
I am an ESTJ, Type A minus introvert, and my love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service.
Your company doesn’t owe you anything. This is not a dig at the specific companies I’ve worked for. In fact, it’s not a dig at all. It’s just a reminder that jobs are jobs. They have a mission, and you are there because they think you can contribute to that mission. You have to look out for yourself and if you find yourself giving to much of your heart and soul to a gig without a clear path to adequate compensation (prestige/money/creative fulfillment/whatever compensation means to you) then it’s probably worth taking another look at your priorities.
And finally…
Life is not fair. This one sounds depressing, not to mention overly simplistic, but I stand by it as a mostly positive affirmation. Life isn’t fair. But it also isn’t unfair. It’s not a set of carefully recorded transactions, there are not scales being tipped in one direction or another. The only thing you can control is what you put out into the world on a daily basis and a lot of the time that’s enough to make mostly good things happen around you. Sometimes it isn't, and often times it’s through no fault of your own. The deck isn’t stacked against you specifically, and people who seem lucky aren’t endlessly so. It’s not a popular opinion, but as far as I’m aware, we nudge things as best we can in a certain direction and otherwise spend most of our lives reacting to the randomness. Embrace it. Know that if things seem bad, chances are they won't be that way forever.
With that, we’ve reached the end of both this list and the decade. Nicely done everyone. Let’s do it again.
OH and- I got a letter board for Christmas (my sister-in-law was trying to do a good thing, she’s sweet) and it’s got an IG account, so follow away: @thedraftnewyork