I Am Not The Same
I Am Not The Same
Entering My Thirties and Becoming Who I Want To Be
Hi friends! With the month of January behind us, an the sun starting to set later and later in the Pacific North West, I am beginning to feel a lot more alive. February is one of my favorite months. And as cheesy as Valentines Day is (an a total capitalist mimic), I love love, and I would be lying to you if I said those little paper hearts glued to my pilates studio’s mirror didn’t make today’s class more bearable.
Today’s post is all about self-love, and the unexpected route it took me to get there. I hope you enjoy it.
Thank you to the new 2 subscribers this week! I am happy to see you here!
Okay let’s get to it.
Many moons ago,I sat on the floor beside my parents' bed, right by my mom's stack of magazines. I stumbled upon an interview in one of her Cosmopolitans. It was by a 30-something-year-old who boldly claimed that once you hit your thirties, you just stop “giving-a-shit”. I was only 15 at that time, deeply engrossed in caring about everything - my outfit for the next school day, what my friends and even non-friends thought of me, how I should act to fit in and be liked. The concept of not caring seemed as elusive as spotting a unicorn in the wild.
Fast forward, I'm about to turn 30 this year, and it's something I've been contemplating lately. Amidst the usual musings about possibly starting a family or being more diligent with sunscreen, what really excites me is the prospect of embracing this "not-giving-a-shit" attitude. But what does that truly mean?
Here's what I've come to realize: It's not about ceasing to care altogether. Instead, it's about prioritizing one thing above all - who am I evolving into, and do I genuinely like that person?
It wasn't until my ex-husband's infidelity that I had a stark awakening. I had been living more for others than for myself, and worse, I wasn't even fond of the person I was pretending to be. It was convenient to deceive myself into thinking I was content, simply for the sake of stability. I was married, had a home, a decent circle of friends, and financial security. Yet internally, I felt disconnected, unfulfilled, and unable to express my true self.
Let's backtrack for a moment and own up to that last point. The only one stifling my authenticity was, well, me. When you're too caught up in pleasing others and suppressing your true self, you inadvertently set the stage for others to expect you to conform to their desires and needs.
Think about it: When you don't reveal your authentic self, people naturally assume you'll fit into the mold they've created for you. And they will expect you to stay in that mold.
Much of my early twenties were spent sculpting myself into everyone else's expectations. I dressed and behaved as my ex-husband wished. I sidelined personal pursuits, neglected cooking dishes I enjoyed, and sacrificed girl trips because it wasn't what he wanted. This pattern extended beyond my romantic relationship, permeating every aspect of my life.
At work, I morphed into the employee my boss desired - sacrificing sleep to respond to emails late into the night and taking on extra responsibilities without expecting any compensation. In friendships, I was the perpetual planner, always apologizing for any delayed responses and readily shouldering their burdens as my own. Within my family dynamics, I played the role of peacemaker, striving to ensure harmony at home at all costs.
Back then, I'd have rather endured my insides burning to a melt than risk upsetting anyone else. I'd spend hours crafting lengthy explanations for why I couldn't attend events, desperately hoping to avoid angering anyone. If I did inadvertently upset someone, I'd be plagued with sleepless nights, fretting over the possibility of abandonment. I lived in constant fear of disappointing others, oblivious to the fact that in prioritizing everyone else's happiness, I was consistently disappointing myself.
It took years of solitude post-divorce, therapy sessions, and countless self-help books to recognize the missing ingredient in my self-love journey: boundaries.
Establishing these intangible yet potent imaginary lines was the catalyst for freeing myself from others' expectations and fully embracing my authentic self. It wasn't as simple as jotting down my boundaries and expecting everyone to respect them. The path to growth and self-love can often feel isolating, but it's a temporary solitude for those committed to their personal evolution.
When you delve deep into defining who you aspire to be and what you require to achieve that, those accustomed to the version of you tailored to their expectations will resist your metamorphosis. They'll attempt to confine you to the box they've constructed, keeping you small.
Growing up necessitates courage. Transitioning from the tumult of your twenties into your thirties with a clear sense of self and purpose will inevitably stir discomfort among those who prefer the old, compliant version of you.
I've bid farewell to friendships I once believed were lifelong after realizing they couldn't accept the person I'm becoming. I've declined opportunities that don't align with my values and canceled plans that drain the energy necessary for my authentic growth.
And you know what? I'm happier, more self-assured, and deeply enamored with the person I've become over the past decade, as well as the person I'm evolving into.
That notion of not giving a damn is crystallizing into a genuine fondness for myself. Consequently, I've reached a point where I can allow others to disapprove, to rage, to misunderstand me. I no longer feel compelled to justify myself excessively because the more I embrace and affirm my evolving identity, the fewer people in my life expect anything other than authenticity from me.
My aspiration for my thirties is simple: to revel in my journey of self-discovery and self-love, not merely by speaking of it, but by radiating that energy wherever I go. I seek to invite more alignment into my life through meaningful connections, opportunities, and experiences.
The transition into my thirties hasn't been effortless. Nevertheless, I'm genuinely prepared, eager even, to cultivate the best version of myself.
Whether or not you’re escaping the hells of your Saturn-Return and entering your thirties. The act of reflection and checking in with the person you are becoming is one you can do at any time.
Below are a few journal prompts I personally have found helpful in this self-discovery and hope you do as well.
What does it feel like to be the best version of myself?
What does my everyday look like when I am this version?
Does this align with the life I want to live?
Are my actions in tune with the better version of myself?
Is this what I want now or what I ultimately want?
Are the choices I am making solely for myself, or for others?
Is this person/ thing raising my energy or draining it?
News
I am teaching two Mexican Coastal classes at The Pantry in Seattle. This class will be a celebration of seafood found in the PNW merged with regional dishes from my home country such as Chiles Rellenos, and Mussels in Chipotle sauce.
Reading
I just purchased The Creative Act of Being by Rick Rubin for my partner and I as a Valentines gift and I can’t wait to read it together.
Cooking
I have been kicking up the protein a notch since I started weight-lifting and have really enjoyed one-pot dinners. Last night I made a simple Cantonese inspired rice dish with shiitake mushrooms, chicken and green onions.
Workshops
Last weekend I taught my very first Cookbook Writing and Food Photography workshop in Seattle. I had a blast and will share more insights soon. If you missed the workshop, you are in luck!
I am teaching a multi-day intensive with Milk Street beginning this month where we will focus on Food Styling and Food Photography.
If you’re interested follow the link to learn more and secure your spot.