People have asked me what happens to Twenties Unscripted when I turn 30. That is like asking a parent what happens when their 12-year-old child goes to college at age 18. There are still six incredible years left to royally screw up, make memories and document it all. So, I do not yet have an answer for that question.
I am not good at answering the “Where do you see yourself in five years?” question or any other queries of its kind. I have not ever been one to give myself arbitrary and ridiculous deadlines of when I should be married or have children. So, I can’t spit off those facts and figures. I understand life and the people around me well enough to know that plans change, deadlines get pushed up and pushed back, and surprises occur. So, today’s topic was hard for me because I can’t provide you with a clean-cut and coherent response. But, then again, do I ever?
When I turn 30, I hope that I am not writing about babies, breast-feeding or husbands. I hope, of course, that I am still writing. I hope that I still have a smartass mouth, a lot to say and an outlet to say it. And, I hope that people are still relating to that. Maybe they will hate that. Maybe they will love that. But, I hope they are still reading and reacting.
When I turn 30, I hope that I still give myself room to make mistakes. I hope that I do not believe I have to have it all together or throw myself into building a nuclear family to be the kind of person I want to be. Maybe I will want those things. And, maybe I won’t. But, whatever I choose, I hope that it will be OK. And, not OK for the world around me, but, mostly, OK for myself.
When I turn 30, I hope I have published a book. Maybe two.
I hope that by the time I’m 30, Twenties Unscripted became something. That, if nothing else, it drove people to figure their shit out and to make mistakes while doing it. I hope that it is a teeny tiny gem in the big bad world of Internet history. I hope the archive of my crazy twenties somehow is valued–not really valued by others, but mostly valued by myself. That I’m able to look back at what I worked on and sometimes laugh, sometimes cringe and sometimes wonder “What was I thinking?” or “How the hell did I write that?” But, I hope to look back on years of writing and see growth and evolution and myself. I hope that I have Twenties Unscripted to hold on to– a time capsule of what I did, what I went through, and precisely how I felt.
I hope that I’m happy when I’m 30. That I am adjusted, confident, and secure. I hope that I give way less fucks about what people think. I hope that life is good. I hope that the people around me are happy. I hope that I’m doing what I want to be doing and making my way through the world.
I hope that when I’m 30, I can close the chapter on Twenties Unscripted knowing that I put everything I had into it and it meant something. That this blog was one of my constants in a decade that threw nothing but curveballs my way. I hope Twenties Unscripted is just as important to me then as it is now.