the end of a decade

Despite the fact that it seems silly, no, not silly, maybe expected is the word? or overly sentimental? to write about the New Year, and this year, the end and start of a decade, I’m doing it anyways, more for myself than for anyone else.

This was a year that moved me in more ways than one. I went back to camp – a camp in a conference room next to the ocean in Florida. Heart Camp. I checked a bag and boarded a plane and lived for four months in Morocco. I gained a sister and a brother and for the first time in my life had cousins. I had my breath taken away by the Sahara. Twice. And stargazed in a rural village. I knew immediate love and grace and acceptance in ways I could have never imagined. I made the best friends. We went to Rome. I made it to Vienna and got to check off my number one bucket list destination and it was more than I ever dreamed it could be. I went to Budapest. I flew home and watched Colgate’s Class of 2019 graduate. I still miss them on campus. I returned to Madewell part-time for the summer and started an internship in public relations in New York City. I was a commuter. I spent a week in Oregon. We moved Grady into her freshman year at Pitzer College and I cried like a baby watching her walk her away. I am so proud of her. I came back to Colgate and moved in with my best friends. We play board games and drink too many white claws and I could not imagine my life without them. They are my rocks. I wrote a thesis. I came home for the holidays. I am home for the holidays.

As we move into 2020 I’m also looking back on the past decade. I was 12, in the height of middle school awkwardness when we entered the 2010s. I had my Bat Mitzvah. I started to self-harm. I asked for help. I was met with love. I left middle school behind. I was an athlete. I took a road trip. I worked at camp, day camp this time, the kind with pools and lakes and sunscreen and field games, not Heart Camp. Our family gained pets. Our family lost pets. I went to concerts. I boarded more planes and saw more of the world. I made dresses. I learned to scuba dive and swam with fish and turtles and sharks. I saw a seahorse.  I spent a summer in France. I went to prom. I graduated high school. I started Colgate. I made new friends. I joined a sorority. I got a tattoo and more than a couple piercings. I started writing and started this blog. I brought my hero to campus. I started to find my voice though I am sure, or I hope, there will always be more to find. I knew confusion, uncertainty, pain, and frustration but I also knew laughter, joy, confidence, and friendship. I learned what it is to feel known.

It feels pointless, no, not pointless, maybe naïve is the word? to muse about what the next decade will hold. Because how could anyone pretend to know? I can imagine some of us will get married. Some of us could have children. Some of us will be roommates and some of us will move to different cities and states and maybe even countries. We will have jobs, maybe more than one. Some of us, maybe and probably all of us, will experience loss. It is my hope that we will all know love. I hope that we will fill our lives with people who inspire us, who know us, who care for us, and that we let them know that we love them. That we will all have people who make us feel special. I hope that we will find comfort and joy in things as simple as worn jean jackets and familiar drives, that we will not lose sight of the beauty in the ordinary. I hope that we will move for things that matter, together. That we all find and know a home. That we will leap. That we will be inspired.