20 DIFFERENT THINGS.

My first chapter—a conscious one, one I’m aware of.

Hi! It’s me again—your favorite girl.

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I like to think you’ve missed me—even if you haven’t, I’m grateful you’re here.

Not long ago, I turned the page to a chapter that defined much of who I am today. I said goodbye to my 20s—a decade that, in its own imperfect way, shaped me. Sometimes, I wonder: Is this what one-third of a life feels like?

I still remember leaving home for the first time—leaving my parents behind to study abroad in the U.S. I chose one of the coldest states imaginable, and yet somehow, ten years later, here I am. Time has a way of slipping past us before we’re even ready.

Last night, I finished When Women Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams—a memoir about the complexities of the mother-daughter relationship. It stayed with me.

In many ways, my 20s taught me how easy it is to take love for granted, especially the quiet, unwavering kind. I think of my mother and our arguments and the ways we struggled to understand each other. What I realize now is that conflict isn’t the end of love—it’s often the beginning of more profound compassion. It taught me to love my mother and my father, with a depth I didn’t know I was capable of.

Today, I look at them with more softness and gratitude. I know how rare it is to be loved so steadily by parents, friends, a coach, and a host family who opened their home to me. There are days I wonder why I was given so much love, especially in seasons when I didn’t feel deserving. I’ve said it before, but it still catches me off guard.

Looking back, what stays with me aren’t the achievements or milestones—it’s the lessons. I made mistakes, countless ones, but each led me back to a better understanding of myself. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that nothing in life is random. This long, imperfect becoming season has been deeply intentional for me. I know God is intentional. And this chapter of womanhood, of growing into myself, feels deeply, intentionally written.

So I thought it was only right to mark this moment by sharing 20 things I am proud of from my 20s. Maybe it will open a small door into my world. Perhaps it will remind you, as it reminds me, that you are not behind. You are not broken. You are not less because you haven't checked off every box or met every expectation.

You are already enough—exactly as you are. Every chapter deserves its quiet celebration. And your path was never meant to look like anyone else’s.

THE 20 LIST:

1. I moved to a new city where I knew no one, and built a life from scratch.

2. I learned how to live alone and love my own company.

3. I let go of friendships that no longer aligned with who I was becoming.

4. I pursued creative dreams that once felt too big for me.

5. I loved deeply, even when it didn’t last forever.

6. I created boundaries and learned that "no" is a complete sentence.

7. I celebrated little wins, not just the big ones.

8. I learned to be who I am, not who I thought I should be.

9. I retrained my thoughts to be kinder, softer, and more forgiving.

10. I gave myself permission to rest when my body asked for it.

11. I let joy be simple: a good cup of tea, a long walk, a deep breath.

12. I started writing/sharing/creating even when I doubted who would care.

13. I learned to listen to understand, not just to respond.

14. I removed people I felt I needed to prove my worth to.

15. I became okay with where I am, even if I hadn’t reached every goal.

16. I opened up, even when vulnerability felt scary.

17. I accepted that I don’t have to do everything—some things can wait, or never happen, and that’s okay.

18. I stayed excited about life, even when it didn’t look like I imagined.

19. I let go of timelines that were never really mine to begin with.

20. I showed up for myself—even when no one else saw it.

No one talks about how painful friendship breakups can be. In many ways, they were some of the hardest goodbyes of my 20s—harder, sometimes, than romantic endings. Letting go of people I once believed would be there forever was one of the most painful—and necessary—experiences I’ve had. Growth demands a shedding. And sometimes, love means loving people from afar, wishing them well, and continuing forward with a quieter, lighter heart.

If there’s anything my 20s have taught me, every ending—even the ones that break you—makes space for a new beginning.

So here I am, standing at the edge of a new decade. Grateful for the lessons, humbled by the love, softened by the losses, and steadied by a faith that everything is unfolding exactly as it should.

Maybe this is where it all begins.

The best things in life are never rushed.

With much love,

JV!