Six perspectives I gained at 32

I turned thirty-two this month, and I’ve noticed that the way I look at things has changed.

At this age, I feel the weight of my own life (and others’) on my shoulders because I can already carry them. Sometimes, the responsibilities could get overwhelming, but instead of wishing they’d be lifted off me, I pray and work hard to gain more strength until they no longer feel heavy—because I know I can’t just get away with all of it. I have to carry them, and I want to handle greater things in the future. Too much of this = I burn myself out.

At this age, I don’t have time for petty things anymore. I’d rather focus on the higher purpose I aim to fulfill and the bigger concerns I need to solve. I’d rather keep things simple so as not to make things harder than life already is (and not to make my mind more fried than it already is). Too much of this = Although I no longer get lost in the minutiae, I tend to overlook little details that turn out to be important for other people.

At this age, I know what I deserve, and I have more courage to let go of what brings me more harm than good. I know I cannot please everyone, and I make mistakes. I know who my true friends are—who really cares, who will never leave, and who stay with me out of love and not out of need. I don’t bother explaining myself if I can help it, especially if it won’t be helpful or necessary. And when things hurt, I let myself bleed. I cry, wail, and throw tantrums if I must—then I let go, move on, and try to find better things. Too much of this = I tend to consider letting go too early.

At this age, I have already realized that I need to work really hard to gain what I want, but at the end of the day, it’s my relationships that make me truly happy. From time to time, I still fail to balance work, life, and relationships, but I remind myself more often that I shouldn’t take my relationships for granted. Although my work and improving my work bring me happiness, they can never beat the joy that laughing, chatting, and doing-things-together with my loved ones can bring. Too much of this = It’s hard to go back to work after having a good time.

At this age, I ask for help when I need it and do my best to not refuse help when it’s offered to me. I know I’m not Wonder Woman, so it’s okay if I ask for help. It’s my last resort, though—a favor I’d ask only after I’ve done my very best. I know I should not expect help from anyone, so I should not get mad when it’s not freely given to me. Other people also have crosses to carry, and I won’t add more burden on them if I could help it. Too much of this = I procrastinate on asking for help.

At this age, I see how short and difficult life is—and how beautiful it still is. After losing some of my loved ones (and almost losing my own life in an accident), I know better now than to merely focus on the world. Our life here isn’t the only life out there. So now more than ever, I want to take care of my soul, stay in a state of grace, and keep my relationship with God, the Source of all good things. When God is present, love is there. When love is present, meaning is there. And when meaning is present, beauty is there. Whenever I feel overwhelmed, I remember to shift my gaze to heaven and ask what truly matters there—and that instantly makes things a little lighter. Too much of this = I embrace myself and my life with open arms, flaws and all.