I turned 22 on Tuesday. It was a wonderful day. I took myself to breakfast at my favorite pancake place. Usually eating alone around others made me feel the weight of my aloneness, but I was oddly comfortable. I read my book and ate my breakfast and listened as the cafe played the same B-side Clario song I had paused before heading inside. It felt like something bigger than a coincidence, a birthday wish from the heavens, a reminder of the presence of something bigger than I am. My friends came over for tea and cake, and they all brought flowers for me. I cooked dinner and called my best friend and my family, who sang me happy birthday over FaceTime. I just felt so loved and lucky. None of the distance was felt. Thank you.
Taylor Swift has a song that goes, “How can a person know everything at 18, but nothing at 22?” I don’t think I know any less than I did four years ago, but rather I think I’ve become aware of what I do not know. Isn’t that knowing, too, in a way?
So, here are 22 things I know at 22:
The best part about birthdays is looking at what has stayed, and what has grown. This is the first year I’ve spent living away from home, and despite that, I can still feel the ever-steady presence of everyone I love. How lucky.
Taking a walk will always make me feel better. I see families on walks and having picnics, and there is an urge to look for mine.
There is value and validity in allowing myself to rest. I don’t always understand why I feel what I feel — but do I need to know? Isn’t the fact that I feel them enough?
Jenny Holzer had a 1984 art piece that said: It is in your best interest to find a way to be very tender. It’s difficult to be tender, to remain tender, but it’s always worth the try.
The most fulfilling type of joy is the honest kind. Each bit of light is worth keeping. Whatever it is, writes Mary Oliver, don’t be afraid of its plenty.
I am grateful to be at an age where I can love and appreciate flowers.
Sometimes it’s easier to lean into the bad feelings than resist them. Sometimes the only way out is through. I can’t sit in the waiting room forever.
People are generally good. It’s okay to believe that. I think it comes from observation — I noticed that I tend to pay the most attention to the rough parts of people, even strangers. So, I’m trying to be more observant.
Poetry taught me how to observe, and how important it is to pay attention. It’s helped slow down my mind and make me feel grounded. It’s comforting to know that your feelings have been echoed.
Reading feels the most fulfilling when it’s what you want. Studying literature has taught me a lot, but it wasn’t until I indulged primarily in the work that I enjoyed reading that I learned the most. Read that romance book, if you want to. It’ll be fun. That’s the point.
Crying at the airport is a good thing. I have learned to love deeply and without remorse. It’s relieving. I never thought I’d get there.
I was surprised to learn that there isn’t a ticking time bomb above my head when it comes to finding romantic love. I never looked in the mirror long enough to notice.
I miss being 17, sometimes. It feels like a crime, knowing that she would be deeply jealous of 22-year-old me. But I’ll miss this too, someday.
There is no such thing as wasted time.
Cooking is fun. Cooking for others and eating with them is even more so.
Nothing is as permanent as my emotions tell me they are. Everything is so close to changing — like the soft stirring of the breeze is enough to knock it all over. I have trust in the breeze. It’ll move things into their places, eventually.
There are so many things I do not yet know. As Rilke said, I have to live the questions. One day I’ll find my way to the answers. I won’t even notice.
Everyone told me to prepare for the rain in London but I have had more problems with the wind. I leave my umbrella at home and have been knitting a scarf. It’s good to be adaptable. The weather is the least of my problems.
It always feels better to talk it out, or at least tell someone how I’m feeling. It allows me to rip out that tangled bundle of emotion with another nimble set of fingers, like separating two necklaces thrown together. There is such a deep relief when they finally pull apart.
Vulnerability, for me, seems to be the key to friendship. It’s not the only way in, but it’s the one that breaks the seal, every time.
I have made it through almost everything I was afraid of. I will make it through the rest.
There is always 23.
Further Reading
“Counting Backwards” by Linda Pastan
“April Morning” by Jonathan Wells
“Early Morning, My Birthday” by Mary Oliver
What I Enjoyed This Week
Recent Reads
How to Be Both by Ali Smith. This one took me a long time to finish, and I still haven’t mastered the art of reading more than one book at a time. It’s a unique structure, placing a 15th-century narrative parallel to a 21st century one, and finding how they both intertwine. There’s a lot about grief and gender and art. I don’t know if I totally got it, but I don’t think I need to. Ali Smith writes with a lot of ambiguity, and I think a lot of the joy that comes with reading her work lies in trying to figure out what lies between the lines.
“Primavera” by Louise Glück. Spring poetry is my favorite, because I appreciate how the poet tries to immortalize something that feels so fleeting, an in-between season. In the end, / even the earth itself will follow the artist's name into oblivion. / Nevertheless, the artist intends / a mood of celebration.
Other Wonderful Things
I saw “The Worst Person in the World” today and loved it. It’s a Norweigan film about a woman trying to navigate identity and love in her late twenties, and it feels like a blend of a Sally Rooney novel and Frances Ha. It’s a tender and honest character study — the more I think about it the more I enjoyed it. It was so well done. I feel it becoming a film I’ll itch to watch over and over again.
On Thursday I had the best almond croissant of my life from Milk in Balham. It was made by Flor Bakery, which has a Michelin Star. I can’t stop thinking about it.
This song!!!!!!!!!, this song, and this song (and here is my birthday playlist!)
Thanks for reading, and for growing with me, always.
<3
Tara
happy birthday tara! thank you for the weekly dose of comfort you've been sharing with us for months now, you've made me realize a lot about myself and my surroundings. i'm really grateful. i hope your year is as gentle to you as your lovely words feel to me <3
Wish you a Happiest Birthday Tara <3 Hope you keep smiling and shining always!