I’M FEELING 22

You are never too old to have a Harry Potter-themed birthday party!

22 Lessons I Learned Before Turning 22

Around my 21st birthday last year, I published a blog where I listed out 21 lessons I had learned by 21. Even though that was just one year ago, I’ve found that growth doesn’t follow the same pace as birthdays. Sometimes a single year can feel like a lifetime of change. Being 21 brought moments of clarity, heartbreak, laughter, and courage, each one teaching me something new about who I am and who I want to be.

As I step into 22, I can feel how different I am from the person who wrote that first list. Back then, I was still learning how to trust myself. Now, I’ve started to understand what it means to actually live with intention and to let go when things don’t go as planned, to forgive myself when I fall short, and to celebrate the small, quiet victories that come with simply growing up.

Some lessons are simple, some are hard-earned, but all of them come from a year that changed me in ways I never expected. Each lesson on this list comes with a story, a moment, or people who helped shape who I am today.

So, in honor of turning 22 last Sunday, here are 22 new lessons I learned by 22:

1. Everyone is living this life for the very first time, so give yourself and others grace

This has been one of my favorite sayings from this past year of life. This might sound like a simple, fluffy sentiment, but we live in a world that demands expertise and perfection, especially from young adults, but the simple truth is that none of us—not your boss, not your best friend, not your parents, and certainly not you—received a detailed operating manual for how to live life the right way without making any mistakes. We are all winging it, figuring out massive life decisions (careers, love, money, identity) in real-time. When you internalize this, it permits you to be incredibly kind. This means silencing the judgmental voice that tells you you should "know better" or that you’re "behind." Stop treating your mistakes as moral failures. You are a work in progress, and your only job is to learn from the last step before taking the next one. The same thing goes for those around you. Holding on to others’ mistakes only punishes you, so let them be imperfect humans and focus on your own lane.

2. Do not let shit slide, they know what they were doing

I am someone who gives second chances, but sometimes that can be a weakness of mine. This lesson is about dropping the exhausting habit of giving people endless chances, especially when they clearly crossed a boundary. The phrase "they know what they were doing" is the central truth here. We often minimize rude comments, canceled plans, or dismissive attitudes by creating elaborate excuses for the offender: "They must be busy," "They didn't mean it," or "Maybe they had a bad day." But when the behavior is a consistent pattern, it’s not a mistake—it’s a choice. Tolerating bad behavior doesn't make you kind; it simply teaches others that you don't respect yourself enough to demand better treatment. Learning to confront these slights, whether verbally or by simply withdrawing your energy, is an essential step toward claiming your personal power and protecting your peace. Stop being the person who makes excuses for others' lack of integrity.

3. Slow progress is still progress

We are obsessed with speed, instant gratification, and visible results, but the truth is that real, sustainable growth is rarely fast. Whether you are building a business, healing from a breakup, saving money, or trying to learn a new skill, consistency beats intensity every single time. Stop comparing your messy, day-by-day effort to someone else's highlight reel. Slow momentum is what changes your life. If you did one small thing today that moves you closer to your goal than you were yesterday, that is a major victory. Never belittle the small steps; they are the only steps that matter in the long run.

4. Love that costs your self-respect isn’t love, it’s self-abandonment dressed up as devotion

The fundamental message is that genuine love, whether romantic, familial, or platonic, should never require you to compromise your core values, dignity, safety, or sense of self. It challenges the toxic idea that true love requires absolute sacrifice. When you continuously ignore your personal needs, drop your friends, or tolerate mistreatment just to please a partner or avoid conflict, you are engaging in self-abandonment. This harmful behavior is often tragically “dressed up as devotion,” framed by both individuals as the ultimate proof of love or romantic martyrdom. You are trading your entire self-worth for the temporary security of a relationship. True love is a reciprocal relationship that fosters growth and safety, respects your boundaries, and adds to your self-respect; it should never require you to become less of who you are.

5. Following the Let Them theory makes life so much easier

On a trip to Orlando for July 4th weekend, I bought Mel Robbins’ book, “The Let Them Theory.” I have heard about this book many times and saw someone reading it by the pool when I was in Vegas back in May, and it inspired me to pick it up and give it a read. On the flight to Orlando, I had finished half of the book. I had underlined and highlighted so many important lessons that I needed to hear, and the Let Them theory has changed my life since. The core of this philosophy is accepting that you cannot control other people; you can only control your response to them. When you catch yourself getting frustrated or anxious because a friend didn't meet your expectations, a partner disagreed with your choice, or a coworker missed a deadline, you simply say, “Let them.” This mental boundary instantly frees up the massive amount of energy wasted on arguing, worrying, or forcing change. The essential next step is to refocus this reclaimed energy onto yourself: “Let me.” Instead of obsessing over their behavior, you focus on what you can do to set a boundary, pursue your own goals, or choose a self-honoring action. By shifting the focus of control from external, uncontrollable factors to your internal, empowered responses, you reduce anxiety, build healthier relationships based on reality, and make your daily life infinitely more manageable.

6. There is a lot of power in what you say, so speak true and speak wisely

I’ve learned that there’s a lot of power in what I say, so I must speak the truth and speak wisely. I’m someone who can’t be fake; I cannot put on a front because you will see the struggle to hide my true thoughts and emotions on my face. Just ask my friends and they’ll tell you how bad it is. My language is a creative force that molds my reality, defines who I believe myself to be, and ultimately determines the quality of my relationships. My words can build up or tear down. For me to "speak true," I have to commit to integrity, meaning I must say what I mean, mean what I say, and have the courage to set boundaries clearly, even when it’s uncomfortable. To "speak wisely" is to be intentional, always pausing to ask: Is what I'm about to say necessary? Is it kind? Is this the right time? When I stop operating on autopilot and start wielding the power of my voice with both honesty and careful discernment, I find that I build a life and connections that are authentic, strong, and centered on trust. Honesty is the best policy.

7. A harsh truth is that connections get you to places that hard work cannot

I used to believe that sheer merit and long hours were all I needed, viewing networking as secondary, or even unnecessary. Since high school, I piled on extracurriculars and honed in on my creative craft relentlessly to build the foundation of my resume. However, since being in college, I’ve realized that while hard work and competence are threshold requirements—you have to be good to stay in the game—they only get my name on the long list. It's social capital and trust that actually pull my name off that list and grant me the major opportunities. The best deals, promotions, and strategic partnerships are almost always part of a hidden market, decided in private conversations long before they're posted publicly. A referral from a trusted colleague acts as a powerful endorsement that immediately de-risks me in the eyes of a decision-maker. I now understand that this is about strategically recognizing that who I know often determines where I start, and what I know determines how long I last.

8. Your career is going to last 30-40 years; you don’t have to do it all right now

I realize now that the cultural pressure I feel to achieve massive success and high earnings in my 20s or 30s is built on the myth of instant success, which only leads to burnout. Like many people in this world, I struggle with imposter syndrome. Especially being at UNC surrounded by many talented creative individuals who are all on their own path to success. But sometimes it’s easy to feel like you should be doing more to succeed. I’ve learned that true success is not about how quickly you start, but about your ability to adapt, grow, and remain effective over the entire marathon. The early years are best spent building a solid foundation of core skills, genuine mastery, and a strong reputation. By following this framework, I can conquer the fear of falling behind and forge my own path to success.

9. Trust your gut always

It has been scientifically proven that your "gut" feeling is a sophisticated form of rapid cognition: it represents your subconscious mind quickly processing a lifetime of experiences, observations, and learned patterns that your conscious mind hasn't yet organized into logical language. My intuition isn't some mystical, random guess; it's the moment when my body's internal alarm system detects a mismatch between what someone is saying and what their body language is doing, or when a deal looks great on paper but just feels wrong. While data and logic are vital tools, my gut acts as a necessary shield against dishonesty, manipulation, and self-sabotage. Ignoring that feeling, whether in a relationship, a business decision, or a moment of personal safety, I’ve learned, is when I’ve made some of my biggest mistakes. That inner voice is essentially my wisest, most experienced self giving me a crucial warning or endorsement. And you know what they say: a woman’s intuition is never wrong.

10. Let their actions tell you if they are the one or not

One of the most reliable pieces of relationship advice is to let their actions tell you if they are the one or not; this piece of advice isn’t limited to just romantic relationships, it can be applied to any kind of relationship, whether it's a family member or a friend. I used to get caught up in the romantic potential—in their charming words, their promises, or the way I wished things would be. But I realized that constantly focusing on someone’s potential is a form of self-delusion. Now, I focus on the hard data: consistency. Do they show up on time? Do they follow through on small commitments? Do they treat me and my loved ones with respect when they’re stressed, tired, or angry? When I simply observe how they behave over time, their actions become the ultimate evidence. I no longer waste energy trying to decipher mixed signals, because genuine commitment, respect, and love are not mysterious; they are simply demonstrated, every single day.

11. Call your parents and grandparents if you can; they’re not getting any younger

I think this is the simplest, most profound lesson I can offer: call your parents and grandparents, if you can; they’re not getting any younger. It’s easy to let the urgent demands of my own life—my schoolwork, my social obligations, my stress—crowd out the time for a simple phone call, but I’ve learned that this is a critical mistake. I need to acknowledge the reality that their time is finite; every week that passes represents a non-renewable opportunity to connect with them. When I make that call, I'm creating new memories and asking questions that might reveal invaluable wisdom, stories, or family history that will be lost forever if I wait. Ultimately, choosing to prioritize those simple calls is an act of proactive love, and a way of investing in my most fundamental relationships while I still have the chance.

12. Your 20s aren’t about having it all together

This decade of my life is not the finish line I once imagined, where I was supposed to have the perfect career, the ideal partner, a fully funded retirement account, and absolute certainty about my life path. Instead, I’ve realized it's a critical, often messy, era of experimentation and foundation building. It's the time to learn through failure, to try on different identities and career paths, and to gather information about myself and the world without the burden of permanent commitment. My core focus should be on figuring out who I am and who I want to be; I should not be focused on impressing others with a façade of flawless competence. Accepting that my twenties are for exploration, uncertainty, and strategic mistakes has been the most freeing perspective shift, allowing me to prioritize growth over perfection.

13. Be grateful; you are living through at least one answered prayer right now

I have found this lesson to be a powerful reminder that the life I live today is often the result of goals, wishes, or desperate pleas I made in the past. Perhaps I, or someone I love, once prayed for the good health that I currently take for granted, the safe home I now inhabit, the stable job that feels routine, or even attending the school I’m about to graduate from. When I consciously acknowledge that my current "normal" was once a hope-filled "someday," I immediately shift from a state of scarcity to a state of gratitude. This practice grounds me in the reality that I have already overcome, achieved, and been gifted crucial things, making it easier for me to approach the challenges ahead with a sense of thankfulness and strength.

14. You have a maximum 5-year window for you to attack the life that you want to win

This isn't about rushing to achieve everything immediately; it's about recognizing that I have a finite, intense period—a power window—during which I can dedicate exceptional, focused energy before major life commitments (like starting a family, peak career management, or caring for aging parents) inevitably consume my time. This 5-year span is where I can sustainably push my limits, take significant professional risks, develop foundational high-income skills, and build momentum that will generate passive or exponential returns for the rest of my life. It’s the time to identify my most important goals and apply effort right now, before the predictable increase in responsibilities forces me into a slower, maintenance phase. I know that if I don't lay this aggressive foundation during this brief period, winning the life I truly want becomes a much slower, harder, or even impossible grind later on. 

15. Peace is sometimes louder than excitement

I am someone who likes to chase excitement, and mistaking loud, intense emotions like the adrenaline rush of starting a new project, the high of a sudden romance, or the drama of a conflict for actual fulfillment. However, I’ve learned that this constant craving for external stimulation is actually a distraction, a way to mask deeper dissatisfaction. Peace, by contrast, may be subtle, but it carries a much deeper power. Peace is the quiet confidence that everything is okay, the deep calm that comes from having my internal world aligned with my values. It’s the steady hum of contentment I feel after a productive, boundary-respecting day, rather than the crash that follows a chaotic high. I now choose to listen for that quiet, stable tone of peace over the frantic noise of excitement, because I know the volume of true well-being is found in stillness. Always choose peace.

16. Growth feels like loss because you’re shedding what’s no longer aligned

Evolving and leveling up can often feel so heavy, mournful, or lonely, even when I know I'm moving toward a better place. The truth is, growth is not always just about gaining new skills or perspectives. Growth is also an active process of grief and subtraction. I’m leaving behind old habits, shedding comfort zones, leaving behind relationships that can’t sustain my new level of clarity, and letting go of identities or limiting beliefs that have defined me for years. These old versions of myself, while familiar, are now old baggage that I have to let go of, and the discomfort I feel is the sensation of cutting the ties to that familiar past. I've realized that the pain I feel isn't failure. It's more the sign of a necessary deep clean, making space for the true, sturdy structure of my future self.

17. Healing isn’t about forgetting, but it’s about learning to live alongside what hurt you

When I first started my journey in college, I was going through one of the toughest moments of my life, where I was losing many people that I loved and cherished deeply–friendships and romantic relationships alike. I soon learned that college had more curveballs to throw at me when it came to betrayal and hurt. I desperately wished I could wipe the memory of the pain away, believing that true healing meant achieving a state of bliss. I learned that this goal is impossible and also counterproductive. The painful experiences—the loss, the betrayal, the trauma—are now a permanent part of my life story, and trying to forget the people who have hurt me is just a form of resistance that traps me in the past. True healing is about shifting my relationship with those memories. It means accepting that the scar will always be there, but it no longer has to be a raw, open wound that controls my actions and my future. My work now is to incorporate the experience, stripping it of its power to cause daily suffering, and transforming it from a source of shame or anguish into a piece of history that fuels my strength and my empathy. I am learning to live alongside the hurt, allowing it to exist without letting it dictate who I am today.

18. Time doesn’t heal everything, but perspective does

The common phrase "time heals all wounds" often feels dismissive because the simple passage of time doesn't automatically remove deep emotional scars, trauma, or resentment. It just allows the feelings to become dormant. True healing begins when I stop waiting for the clock to do the work and start actively changing the perspective through which I view the past event. This shift involves moving the event from the category of personal wound to the category of life lesson or defining experience. I realized I had to reframe the narrative: instead of asking, "Why did this happen to me?" which traps me in victimhood, I began asking, "What did this teach me, and how can I use it?" By choosing to see a difficult experience as a source of strength, wisdom, or clarity rather than a perpetual source of pain, I take back the power that the event previously held over me. It is this intentional change in viewpoint, this active effort to find meaning and growth, that ultimately provides the deep and lasting relief that passive waiting never could.

19. Silence is an answer, and indifference is a decision

I used to waste so much energy chasing after people who simply weren't invested in what I had to offer, constantly seeking clarity or validation where there was none. Now, I understand that if someone consistently offers silence where a response is expected—in a conversation, after a difficult discussion, or regarding future plans—that absence is their answer. They have communicated their lack of urgency or commitment without saying a single word. Similarly, indifference is an active decision to withhold emotional energy, effort, or prioritization. When someone repeatedly shows me they don't care, I no longer try to change their mind. I take their non-action as a clear signal of where I stand, which frees me from the exhausting cycle of over-analyzing and allows me to honor my own worth by walking away.

20. Life rarely makes sense while you’re living it, but one day it will read like poetry

It’s so easy to panic when I’m deep in the middle of a confusing situation, whether it’s a painful pivot, an unexpected setback, or a big, uncertain decision. From my limited vantage point, everything looks like a disconnected mess. I don't see the narrative structure; I only feel the chaos and the fear. But what I'm realizing is that I have to trust the process. When I look back on past confusion—the jobs I didn't get, the friends I lost, the risks that didn't pay off—I can see how those seeming errors were actually necessary to nudge me exactly where I needed to go. Time grants me the distance to see the structure and the meaning, allowing all the messy, contradictory chapters of my life to finally snap into place, forming a story that is not just logical, but beautifully intentional.

21. Ambition and gratitude can coexist

It’s okay to want more without hating what you already have. I am someone who is always looking for more to add to my life. The more opportunities, the better. But for so long, I felt like being truly ambitious, constantly striving for the next big promotion, achievement, or goal, meant I had to be dissatisfied with my present reality. The great lesson I’ve learned is that gratitude is a source of fuel, not contentment. Being genuinely grateful for my current progress, the people who support me, and the opportunities I’ve earned grounds me, preventing the toxic cycle of constant hunger and anxiety. By consciously acknowledging my current blessings, I protect myself from burnout and clarify my vision, allowing my ambition to become a healthier, more sustainable desire for growth, rather than a frantic escape from a reality I feel isn't good enough.

21. Being “enough” has nothing to do with doing more; it’s about being real

I spent too much of my life trapped in a cycle of exhausting effort, believing I had to constantly achieve, please, and perform to earn my worth. This pursuit of "more" was never-ending because I was basing my value on an external force I could never fully control. I've since realized that the true solution to feeling insufficient isn't to add another task to my plate, but to accept who I am right now. This means shifting my focus from performance to presence. When I stop striving to be the perfect version of myself and instead choose to be real, I finally feel whole. My sufficiency is not something I earn through my actions, but something I recognize through my acceptance of self.