you are worth the mess you make

and i think you're better for it

Credit: Pinterest

Anything that dies is going to scream. You add your ego into the mix, and it’s almost guaranteed.

In elementary school, I broke up with a friend with my Hello Kitty stationary. I thought I was being poetic about the whole thing. But it was messy and drama and caused a rift like I’d never seen. I thought I was being righteously honest and unapologetically myself. And I thought that was what we were meant to do? Drop the truth even if it stings a little bit. We didn’t talk again for one full school year.

We ended up being better friends in the end because of it, but I think that was one of the very first times I learned that sometimes when you drop what you want, it breaks. But I still meant what I wrote.

Credit: Danielle Scruggs

At 24, I’ve learned that growth is a fiery passenger. I know I’m the one in control but I often forget how much I’ve grown until I’ve grown so big it burns. Like if I were to tell my 20 year old self that I am in Rolling Stone and also embarking on some of the biggest achievements I’ve ever accomplished (more on this in October and in 2025)…I’d probably believe myself (I’m a Sagittarius). But I'd still be shocked and would wonder how it feels to grow so big in such a short amount of time. Do my goals and aspirations still fit the same? Or have I outgrown some? And which ones?

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Many of the leaps I take in the name of my career or my relationships these days are met with an almost certain sense of sentimentality. A kind of homesickness towards what I already know. But nostalgia is not a reliable narrator, we know this. 

But I do think a little bit of longing keeps things interesting.

Credit: Jan Sochor, Haitian men play dominoes on the street of Port-au-Prince, Haiti.

I saw the movie My Old Ass on Tuesday. It was 3pm and I was avoiding emails. I liked the movie a lot. It was one of those coming-of-age films that reminds you that childhoods were invented to play pretend and end in ice cream. And how sweetly some of us remember our own but how most of us never remember the end. Like do you remember the last time you put down your bike to never be used again? Or the last time you came in from playing with your friends once the streetlights came on? And if you did remember it, in that moment, would it hurt or would you savor it even more? Or both?

Credit: Jean-Marie Perier (1996)

In my twenties, a lot of the changes that I initiate feel pretty consequential, like all the time. And I know it’s probably because my frontal lobe is developing and I am discovering myself for the first time. Without being under the constant supervision of my parents or teachers or simplicity, it’s all so different. To be known is to be loved and to be loved by yourself is to allow yourself to change as you see fit. And there is a lot of that in your twenties. It seems messy now because I have all these feelings and ideas and usually have no clue where to put them so I leave them on my bed or on my couch or in my purse or with a friend. And while I figure out where to place them, they all get familiar with each other and then new ideas or feelings are born. So it’s never-ending really.  But I’d always rather be in the company of my own mess than nothing at all. I feel lucky to bear witness to the change. And it’s even better to be surrounded by people who get it and welcome the clutter. 

So the next time you choose to drop a new idea, thought, or feeling into the universe, understand that sometimes it’s meant to shatter to become a better thing. Or sometimes there’s someone there to catch it.

Either way you’ll be better off for it, I promise.

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