Tell your cat you love her
and other lessons I learned in my 20s
I’m 30, btw! My birthday is May 18—the best day in the entire world and I’m not even just saying that because it’s mine—and on it I said goodbye to my 20s.
So far, I love being 30. I have a master’s degree, Regal Unlimited subscription (with Obsession presently being in theaters), and 8:30 sunsets. I never found the thought of crossing the 30 threshold to be scary—the Summer House cast are all there (plus, like, 15 years if you’re Kyle Cooke), and none of them seem particularly old to me. I feel good.
Because I graduated this month, my birthday month is officially JUNE 2026. I have no problem stealing from Geminis as I am one emotionally (Moon sign) and romantically (Venus sign). Feel free to wish me happy birthday daily as you see fit.
Perhaps it’s cliché to write 30 lessons I learned before I turned 30 or whatever, but when has the fear of being cliché ever stopped me before? I wrote this list a couple months ago while sipping a matcha, and I stand by most of it.
I present to you the 30 most important lessons you could ever read. (Lesson zero: Always hype yourself up!!!!)
It doesn’t matter if it’s 8 p.m. Drink the damn matcha!
Routines are good. For example, every night at 8 p.m., I drink the damn matcha.
If you cut your hair, you might regret it. But that’s okay. It’s better to regret than to never decide at all.
Don’t have regrets that are more consequential than a haircut. Accept that you made the best decision you could have with the information you had.
Always say yes to babysitting your nephew, a call with your sister, and dinner with your best friend.
If someone you know wrote a book, read it. If they started a business, buy something from it. If they’re in a play, go see it. I’m not even just talking friends, for which this support should be a given. If you know someone, and you like them, support the things they’re doing. You never know how it could encourage them; the world needs people pursuing things they’re passionate about.
In the god awful worst days of your life, don’t forget how to laugh. If you forget, watch Survivor season 29.
Don’t go to grad school! If you want to go, then sure, but write down five things you hope to gain from it and make sure at least two of those aren’t things you can get from something else. If you then decide to go, it’s exactly what you should be doing.
If you’re single, your priority in dating should be to have fun. If you’re in a relationship, your priority with your partner should be to have fun.
Delete Instagram off your phone.
Never be the smartest person in the room. If you are, it’s your responsibility to invite more people in.
My dad always said two out of 10 people are going to love you, two out of 10 people are going to hate you, and the other six can go either way. No matter what you do, you will always be loved, and you will always be hated.
Getting an espresso machine for your home is one of the best things money can buy. You will be changed, for good; sure, you will be caffeine dependent, but you will be grateful for slow mornings at the counter with a latte and your husband, or fast mornings during which you make a quick iced latte to go but are empowered to make it exactly how you like it.
Buy the salsa verde from Oceana Market. This may be too niche, but I do find it pertinent.
Talk to your mom and dad. Even if they’re dead.
Talk about your mom and dad. Especially if they’re dead.
Get a cat and tell her how much you love her. She will understand.
Read, go to the movies, listen to new music, and listen to podcasts—and don’t feel guilty for spending time with any of these artforms. These are often solitary activities, but there are thousands of people out there enjoying the exact same art that you are. It’s nice to do something alone in community.
Make art for yourself and not for the audience you think it’ll speak to. The best artists you’ve ever encountered created their art as an entirely selfish act. This is good. Art should be selfish.
If someone wants to talk to you about astrology, let them. It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe in it—you don’t have to. They’re likely trying to connect with you and understand the world around them.
If you know someone who is grieving, ask them how they’re doing.
Nostalgia is powerful—it’s our desire to connect with a past that is dead and gone. Nostalgia is grief. Reminisce, and bring the things you loved into the present once more.
Journal. If you have an excuse for why you aren’t able to journal on a particular day, journal about it.
Did you just see an advertisement for $1 oysters? Drop everything and order 20.
Friendship is not a game, and it is not a competition. If you’re always the first one reaching out to a friend, who cares? Reach out again if you have the urge to. If your friend is accomplishing something before you? Good! They deserve it, and it’s not about you.
People in Italy do not go out in their pajamas. This is a deeply American thing to do. I will not, for example, dress to the nines to sit on a flight, but in everyday life, I have noticed a strong correlation between looking good and feeling good.
Reach out to younger members of the family. Your little cousins shouldn’t have to reach out to you first.
People love you everywhere you’ve ever been. We can’t possibly contemplate the impact we’ve had on others. Whenever you feel compelled, tell someone what they mean to you.
If you’re loud, be loud. In happiness, in sorrow, in love, in grief. Shout all your emotions at the rooftops, even if it feels like no one could ever understand you. Someone, somewhere will understand.
Watch the sunset. The sun never changes; it always sets exactly like it should. Even as you change and get older, you will watch the sunset in the exact same way that you always have.
Thank you for reading. If you liked this essay, I’ve got more where that came from!!!! Subscribe for more writing and watch GRIEF AND MEDIA PROJECT on here or YouTube.
