Back in the early 2000’s, I was a young woman on a Mission. I went to school to become a paramedic. I traveled the world doing charity work. I was very active in my community, and wanted to change the world. I was thirsty for adventure, but starving to do something truly great with my life.
I was a the very definition of a Do-Gooder.
By 23, I was well on my way. School? Check. Decent job? Check. Guy I was totally in love with? Check. Saving the world on my horizon? CHECK.
By 24, I got a little sidetracked. I suffered a massive broken heart. My decent job turned into a nightmare. I didn’t finish all of my paramedic certifications. I was floundering, but trying to hold on to my Mission.
So, I did what any confused 20-something does when they are paralyzed about their next move and riddled with heartache and anxiety and still believes saving the world is up to them: I moved to Germany.
I also drank beer. Like it was water.
{Pro Tip: Beer is not water.}
I had a clear mission for moving to Germany, but to be honest, it was fueled by desperation. I needed to get out of my own skin, but couldn’t. Living in another country was the next best thing. Dressing it up as humanitarian? Well, that was even better.
I briefly lived in a crusty hostel, in exchange for bar tending off the books one night a week. Then my (only) friend found a job for me as a nanny to a very wealthy family. I loved the kids. The mom was bananapants. It didn’t last, and it most definitely didn’t end well.
I ended up on some very new friends’ doorstep. I was essentially homeless with no place to live. They were truly welcoming and generous and took pity on me. I know I was a haphazard mess, looking for myself and never really knowing where to start or how to handle myself. They knew it and were gracious.
I wasn’t as gracious to them, I’m sorry to say.
After globe trotting for the better part of two years, (including a stint in Mexico where I worked in the trash heaps with people who called living in the city dump Home), I settled down in Texas. I took my first (and last job) working for a church. That was a mistake and I was done six months in. I wanted out.
By 26, I was back on track, and my Dream Job came to my rescue.
Except I wasn’t ready for my Dream Job. And it wasn’t really a dream.
I was SAVING THE WORLD, you guys. And I sucked at it. And not just a little suck, but super duper Hoover Power Shop Vac suck. The areas of my job where I excelled were not big enough to overcome my massive amounts of suckage. Plus, I was stretched too thin, paid too little, had some moral conflicts, hated the politics, and was burnt out before I even really found my pace. Because as it turns out, saving the world is exhausting. So is traveling the world. I wasn’t brave enough to advocate for what I needed, and lacked the wisdom to know how to bow out gracefully.
I was terrified. I was failing my Mission. And I made dozens of people angry with me in the process.
I shut down.
I met my Dream Guy while I was at my Dream Job. I was ready for him, though, or so I thought. My Dream Guy kept me even when the Dream Job and I broke up. To be honest, it was a relief to leave the job, even while it devastated me on every possible level. But my Dream Guy and I had a lot of growing up and overcoming to do, and our relationship was most definitely not a fairytale.
Everything I stood for, all of my goals and morals and ideals and unshakable beliefs were rocked to the core. I felt like I was living in rubble, and ultimately the destruction was all my doing.
Fast forward almost 10 years. I live in an amazing city. I am still married to my Dream Guy, even though there’s no way I would ever call him that now. He’s a legit human like the rest of us, and the things I cherish most about him have nothing to do with the perfect fantasy of who I wanted him to be.
I am doing work that I absolutely love. It lights me up inside; cooking, sharing, writing, advocating for family and health and laughing along the way.
And my son, E. Who changed me in ways I will never be able to adequately articulate, and made me completely his as only a child can do. He reminds me that I am The Luckiest. Ever.
I think about 20-something Carrie often. I talk to her, remind her that things turned out (mostly) okay. I still get stuck in those failure places in my past. I’m going to write down those things I say to 20-Something Carrie, so if you ever start beating yourself up, you can read them to your 20-something self. Or maybe you are a 20-something and you need a visitor from the future to tell you what’s up. In any case, here it is.
Enjoy your 20’s. Make mistakes. Move across the world, drink the beer, kiss the cutie, buy a cake and dance on it with your bare feet, then watch the sunrise with your friends after staying up all night. BE 20-SOMETHING.
Your heart is true. Listen to it when it sends up a tiny red flag and chase it with abandon when it gives you a green light. It will get broken. It will mend.
The world never needed saving. The world needs your love, your gifts, and your unique contributions, though. You will light up everyone around you when you feel lit up by what you do.
Stop worrying about pleasing everyone. You aren’t in control of anyone but yourself. Stop trying so hard to make everything okay, and work on making YOU okay.
Speaking of angry…You’re going to piss off a million people in your lifetime. You will eventually piss them off for the right reasons, like sticking to your personal boundaries or leaving abusive or demoralizing relationships. Pissing people off because you don’t know how to advocate for what you need so then you fall down a shame spiral and implode your life and other people’s lives? Yeah, that’s way worse than speaking your mind. Learn to be Brave and grow a steel backbone.
You will learn to leave well. This one takes practice, but you will figure out how to walk across a bridge without burning it. How to say thank you and honor people who have given you gems of life experience and wisdom. Even if they’re terrible people and those gems were buried in a pile of poop, you’ve learned something from them. Say a genuine thank you and then a gracious goodbye.
You are totally okay. You’ve probably ruined your life by now. That’s totally okay and maybe even necessary. You’ll put it back together, and the world is full of people who love you and will help you find the broken pieces. Maybe they’ll even hand you a glue gun and beer while you piece your life back together. Nothing lasts forever, even destruction.
Now I’m going to change a horrendously dirty diaper, work on my writing for the week, and remember the exceptionally wonderful things about my 20’s.
Love,
Carrie
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