Thoughts

dancing on my own – a “girls” hangover

| Jess

About three months ago, I decided to watch “Girls” for almost the first time as a 33 year old…woman. A word I still can’t come to terms with because – after all – I’m just a girl. Anyway, I say “almost” because back in 2016 I made it through about 10 minutes of the first episode and said “I cannot handle these people.” My higher/future self was looking out for me because in hindsight watching this show in my 30s was a much more enjoyable experience.

At 24, everything would have hit way too close to home. The friendships, the experiences, the trying to figure life out – it would have been way too relatable for me at that time. Instead, watching this show as a 30-something brought laughs, nostalgia, tears and a whole lot of contemplation. It also came with the realization that even though you might have your life “figured out” you never really do. Nothing stays stable for long. At any moment someone or something is coming around the corner to turn everything upside down.

Life being turned upside down is not always a bad thing – even though in some moments it may seem that way. Sometimes the most painful revelations can lead to groundbreaking realizations. Sometimes we don’t even know how strongly we’re being pulled down until we free ourselves from the weight.

Over the last five years, the times when I’ve felt most stable and secure with my future were the times when the other shoe dropped. From Covid putting my career plans on hold to thinking I was getting married, the things that came along that were unwelcome at the time have instead directed me to a new and different path.

This is not to say that the other shoe will always be waiting to drop or that we should live our lives in fear that the good can only come with the horrible. And this is me speaking to myself just as much as you because I have been that girl. I have spent too much of the good times in my life feeling like a storm cloud full of bad news was right behind me.

As the series carries on, it’s easy to see that the girls don’t end up with lives that they thought they would. However, I argue that they seem to be at least content with where they’ve landed OR where they are headed. One of the biggest takeaways from the show for me is – perhaps the things we dream of having or being look much different in practice. We have grand plans for our lives and yet, the reality of it all can greatly affect whether or not we will see them through.

I don’t find this to be a bad thing and I actually don’t hate how the show ended – despite much internet debate. The final episodes of such an incredible and smart show are realistic as fuck. Because sometimes we do lose friends. Without notice, people do change their minds. Sometimes we give up on the dreams that aren’t realistic or don’t matter to us anymore regardless of the sunk cost. And that is just life. It’s not sad, it’s not depressing it’s just what life pushes us to be.

With this post, I did not set out to wrap up my feelings about this show in a nice little box with a cute little bow and put it up on a shelf. Nor do I feel like I’ve done anything close to that over the last several paragraphs. I would definitely consider this stream of conscious. Maybe this is just praise for a show that made me feel so many things and did not tie everything up with a cute little box itself.

In time and with experience, perhaps I will see parts of this show in a different light. I already know a re-watch is in my future but I’ll be saving that for a time when I know I really need it. Life is dynamic and the plot twist just might be up around the corner.

i met my younger self for coffee

| Jess

Currently, there is a trend going around on Tik Tok entitled “I Met My Younger Self For Coffee…” The user then utilizes text or a voiceover to discuss the differences in the “two people” who are meeting. Expectations, realities, disappointments, unexpected life turns – it’s all rather introspective. And it makes me sick. I had to participate.

My first question before we get started is – what age of mine would show up for coffee? The girl I was seventeen, fifteen, twelve or even five years ago (on the verge of the pandemic – a critical age for us all) is not the same as the others or even the woman/girl I am now. I still have a hard time calling myself a woman. As far as I’m concerned, in my head, I’m forever 21 and nowhere near ready for adulthood.

While I could offer myself at any of these ages some very sound pieces of advice, I always visit 21 year old, 2013 version of me in my head. The music, the fashion, the vibes…they always get me.

She arrives five minutes late while I sat in the car for 10 minutes, painfully early thanks to the anxiety and ADHD I found as an adult.

We’re both wearing black tops, jean shorts and Vans – no shock there. Although, I will have to let her know there was a period of time where we detoured away from this aesthetic. And we are very glad to be back.

Her hair is curlier and more effortless than mine – the benefit of youth and the fact that no damaging chemicals have touched those locks yet. She’s walked in with wired ear buds firmly in place, I know she has a perfectly curated playlist for walking to the coffee shop. An activity I haven’t found the time for lately.

She was…something. So young, so full of life and hope yet no stranger to adversity and heartbreak. She thought she had it all figured out.

I don’t think she had much of a plan beyond college graduation and even that milestone didn’t feel like it was actually attainable. I know she was having so much fun in college at that point in time that graduation was not something to look forward to. She didn’t want those days to end.

She had been on a study abroad and her first trip out of the country during the summer where she learned so much about the world and the fact that she had so much more to learn. She was settling into a new living situation in a house that she wasn’t quite sure was haunted (spoiler alert it was) with two girls she would consider more social friends, her newest friend (who would become her best friend) down the road and her closest guy friends right next door. They even provided a dog – they really were all set in their corner of the world.

While she wasn’t thinking beyond graduation, she was thinking towards the future. She was falling in love quite possibly for the first time and that had her mind spinning and her pens running dry with as much writing as she’d been doing. I still have those journals safely in my desk – some memories too full of longing to revisit.

She’s thrilled that we have our own dog, have been to countless music festivals and concerts and have a decent long-standing career. The career point is poignant as we tended to job-hop before we found this gig. Although she had no idea where she would go after college, she is shocked to hear we live in Vegas. Disappointment crosses her face to learn that we still haven’t lived in Boston and that boy she was in love with is nowhere to be found.

She notes that I look tired, a little stressed and definitely burnt out. That I look unsettled, anxious and like I have somewhere to be. That I look like I’m running out of time. She reminds me I still have time and nothing is permanent. I breathe a sigh of relief and tell her I’m going to need that as a constant reminder. If I’d heard that months earlier, I would have rolled my eyes and not welcomed the youthful advice. While she is still young and still has no idea what the real world actually contains, she is no way wrong.

As I look at the girl on the verge of some major life changes, I feel the need to protect her from them. But I can’t. All I can do is guide her in the way I wish I would have been guided. A thought crosses my mind, perhaps this version of me has always been there to guide her – that whole time/quantum physics thing. I’ll let someone more scientifically inclined try to explain it for me.

I tell her to savor this time in her life. Take the photos, spend time with the friends and really embrace the whole experience. I tell her that this time in her life is one I look back on fondly and wish frequently I could revisit even for a weekend – but only specific weekends and not all the time.

As we part ways I hope she takes some advice with her and I hope she believes me when I tell her she will make it through the most difficult parts of her 20s and early 30s. The reminders of a young life so full of optimism and hope are what I’m taking with me. That life is long but also short and I absolutely must do exactly what I want with mine. Most importantly, I’m not late at all. In fact, I may just be right on time.