Turning 20: The Things I’ve Learned During the Longest 7 Years of My Life

Turning 20 is terrifying when you’ve spent years romanticizing your teenage experience. It feels like you’re stepping into something new but leaving behind something that defined you. The transition is awkward, one foot still in the chaos of being a teen, the other stepping into the unknown world of adulthood. Looking back, I’ve realized that life is just a long series of trial and error. Some lessons stick, some don’t, and most of them take a few repeats before they actually make sense.

For the past seven years, I’ve learned more about myself than I ever thought I would. Some lessons were painful, some were freeing, and some were just plain weird. But every single one of them shaped me into the person I am now, about to step into my twenties with (hopefully) a little more wisdom.

13: The Learning Phases of Myself

When I was 13, the world as I knew it shut down. COVID hit, and everything changed. I honestly don’t remember much of life before that. It feels like the version of me that I recognize started forming only after the world went into lockdown. That’s when my memories began.

13 was the age of phases some cringey, some fun, but all necessary. It was a time of experimenting with my identity and figuring out who I was (or at least, who I thought I was). I went from long, highlighted hair to bangs, then a bob with micro bangs, and at one point, I dyed my hair green… which, let’s be real, was a huge mistake.

But hair choices weren’t the only thing I experimented with. I had an IT cosplay account that became somewhat micro-famous, then a Miraculous Ladybug fan page. Oh, and let’s not forget about my “Lasagna” online persona… I honestly thought that was my peak.

At the time, I would have never admitted it, but I was creating pieces of myself, even if they seemed silly in retrospect. Looking back, I used to be embarrassed by my 13-year-old self. When I turned 15, I’d cringe at the thought of the things I said and did online. I tried to convince myself that I was way cooler now. But over time, I realized something important: tearing apart my past self didn’t do anything but make me forget how much she mattered.

Without that 13-year-old version of me, I never would have discovered my love for storytelling, journalism, and marine biology. The girl who started reading just to win an argument with a friend is now 20, writing for fun, and dreaming of seeing her name in National Geographic. It’s funny how life works—sometimes you don’t even realize how pivotal certain moments are until much later.

14: It’s Okay to Lose Contact

When I was 14, one of the most challenging lessons I learned was about the relationships in my life. I moved away from home, and while the physical distance was tough, the emotional distance that came with it was even harder to navigate. I thought that friendships were supposed to last forever that if you cared enough, you would stay close, no matter what. But what I came to realize is that distance doesn’t define relationships; effort does.

At first, I felt like I was doing something wrong when I lost touch with friends I thought would be in my life forever. It felt like I was betraying them or abandoning something important. I used to keep thinking that if I just tried harder, we’d stay close. But the truth is, not every friendship is meant to last for a lifetime. Sometimes, friendships are meant for a season a specific chapter in your life and once that chapter is over, it’s okay to move on.

Letting go doesn’t mean you don’t care it just means you're making space for new relationships, and sometimes, those are the ones that are meant to stay. I had to remind myself that it's okay for people to drift apart and I only began to realize this in my late teen years and that doesn’t reflect poorly on anyone. People grow, change, and sometimes the paths you were once on no longer align. And honestly? That’s okay. What really matters is the effort you put into the relationships that are still part of your life. The people who are meant to be in your life now whether they’re old friends or new ones, are the ones you should focus on nurturing. When you release the guilt of letting go  you free up energy for the connections that are truly meant to evolve with you. Make sure you put in that effort with your current ones, dont isolate and don’t drift.

Over time, I came to embrace this idea, and it helped me let go of the notion that everyone I meet has to be in my life forever. This also gave me the peace of mind to focus on the friendships that matter right now, the ones that contribute positively to my growth. So, if you find yourself losing touch with people or outgrowing certain relationships, don’t feel bad. It’s a natural part of life, and sometimes it’s necessary to make room for new connections that are better suited to where you are in your life today.

15: Your Life Doesn’t End, and Things DO Get Better

At 15, I was convinced that every single bad thing happening to me was the end of the world. I couldn’t see past the immediate moment, and every challenge felt like it would last forever. Heartbreaks, mistakes, awkward phases, embarrassing moments all of them felt like I was stuck in a loop that would never end. I remember being so overwhelmed by the weight of it all, thinking that there was no way out. But the truth, which I didn’t understand at the time, is that nothing lasts forever especially the hard stuff.

The most freeing thing I’ve come to realize in my 20s is that life keeps moving forward, no matter how prepared (or unprepared) I am for it. It doesn’t matter if I’m ready or not; time doesn’t pause for my discomfort. And that’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s one of the most comforting things I’ve learned. I don’t have to have everything figured out all at once, because life will keep unfolding whether I’m ready for it or not.

When I was 15, I couldn’t see past the sadness, frustration, or confusion. But now, I look back and see how all of those difficult experiences were just stepping stones. They weren’t the end of my story; they were just chapters. The heartbreaks? They led me to better understand what I need in a relationship. The mistakes? They taught me lessons I couldn’t have learned otherwise. The awkward phases? They gave me the courage to laugh at myself and not take life too seriously.

What I didn’t know then is that the best parts of my life hadn’t even happened yet. The opportunities, the friendships, the successes, and the personal growth were all waiting for me in the future, just beyond those tough moments. And I’m so grateful that 15-year-old me didn’t give up because those moments made me who I am today. It’s easy to think that when things go wrong, they’re a permanent setback. But what I’ve learned through experience is that life is constantly changing. The good and the bad are in constant flux. The hard moments don’t define us; they shape us, and they prepare us for the better things that are to come.

If you’re reading this and you’re going through a tough time, just know—things do get better. It might not feel like it now, but the hard moments are temporary. And when you look back, you’ll see how they played a vital role in getting you to where you need to be. The best parts of your life are still ahead, and sometimes, you just have to hold on through the storm to see the sunshine waiting on the other side.

16: Friendships End, But Accountability Matters

One of the hardest pills I had to swallow was realizing that not all friendships end because of the other person sometimes, it’s because of you. For so long, I believed that when a relationship ended, it was always the result of something the other person did, or it was just a case of ‘growing apart.’ I never fully understood that sometimes, the breakdown of a friendship is rooted in my own actions, behaviors, or choices that I wasn’t even fully aware of at the time. It took a long time for me to realize that I wasn’t just the victim in these situations; sometimes, I was the reason those relationships faltered.

When my old best friend and I broke up at 16, I didn’t know how to process it. We were incredibly close, and to be honest, we were too close, too intertwined it was always just us. We became so dependent on each other that we lost sight of ourselves. Our identities were so wrapped up in one another that when we started to drift apart, it felt like losing a part of myself. We needed space to breathe, to grow separately, and to learn who we were outside of the friendship. It wasn’t a matter of us not caring for each other, it was that we were stuck in a cycle that wasn’t healthy. The constant proximity and emotional reliance were suffocating in ways we didn’t understand at the time.

That time apart was one of the hardest and most eye-opening experiences I’ve ever gone through. But it was also one of the most necessary. We both needed that distance to realize who we were and who we wanted to be. After a period of growth, we came back together and this time, we were not only friends again but also better versions of ourselves. We were both healed in ways we couldn’t have achieved if we hadn’t taken the space we needed. Now, we’re closer than we’ve ever been, and I can honestly say that I value our friendship more than I ever did before. That break, the space we took, was essential to our healing, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.

During that time of separation, I made a lot of mistakes. I thought I was doing the right thing by isolating myself, thinking I could handle everything on my own. I convinced myself that I was ‘healing’ by cutting people off and pretending I was fine on my own. I thought that being alone meant I could focus on myself, that I could take care of everything on my own terms. But I know I was avoiding accountability. I didn’t want to face the reality that I had contributed to the breakdown of the friendship. I tried to justify my actions by calling them ‘self-care’ saying I needed time for myself but really, I was just being selfish. I was running away from the pain instead of confronting it.

The truth is, healing isn’t about avoiding the hard feelings or pretending that everything is okay. It’s not about shutting everyone out and convincing yourself you can do it all alone. I learned the hard way that healing involves facing your own mistakes, owning up to them, and taking responsibility for your actions. It’s about acknowledging that, even if things didn’t work out the way you wanted, you still have a part to play in that outcome. Healing isn’t about blaming others for what went wrong. It’s about looking inward, recognizing where you went wrong, and taking the steps to make it right when possible.

Looking back, I see that I should have asked for help. I should have reached out to people I trusted instead of isolating myself. I should have allowed others to support me through my struggles instead of pretending I could manage everything on my own. Healing is not about being alone or completely self-reliant, it’s about finding the strength to face your pain with the help of others and letting them be part of your process.

Friendships can and do end, but what truly matters is how you reflect on those experiences and what you learn from them I don’t regret any of it. If you lose people because of your actions, it’s important to face that and learn from it. Growth doesn’t come from avoiding those uncomfortable truths. It comes from looking at your past, understanding what went wrong, and using that knowledge to do better in the future. Friendships, just like any relationship, require work, understanding, and the willingness to learn and grow both as individuals and as friends.

Now, I understand that healing is a process, and it’s okay to lean on others along the way. You don’t have to go through it alone. In fact, healing is often more effective when you let others support you. I don’t regret the space my old best friend and I took apart because it allowed us both to grow, but I also recognize that I could’ve done better during that time. I could have been more open to seeking help, being vulnerable with others, and allowing myself to be supported. But the most important thing is that I learned from it. I learned that it’s okay to ask for help, to grow, and to evolve from the experiences that challenge you the most.

17: It’s Okay Not to Know Who You Are

Movies and music often make it seem like by 18, you’re supposed to have everything figured out. You’re supposed to know exactly who you are, what you want, and where you’re going. These coming-of-age films show us teenagers who seem to have all the answers, their lives perfectly mapped out as they navigate love, friendships, and finding their purpose. We watch these characters find themselves, and we believe that by the time we hit 18, we should be on the same path like there’s some kind of secret blueprint to follow.

But the truth is, no one really knows. No one has it all figured out at 18, 20, or even 30. And that's something I've had to come to terms with over time. Society (especially movies and music) puts so much pressure on us to figure things out quickly. The songs we listen to, the movie scenes we idolize, all seem to tell us that by a certain age, we’re supposed to have our lives in order. They romanticize the idea of ‘knowing exactly who you are,’ but in reality, most of us are just figuring it out along the way.

I spent so much time thinking I had to be something by now, trying to fit myself into a mold that didn’t really belong to me. Music, in particular, had a huge influence on me during this time. Growing up, I would listen to all kinds of songs that were about having it all figured out—songs about heartbreak, about finding love, about discovering yourself. And while they resonated with me in the moment, they also made me think I should be experiencing life in a certain way, with a clear sense of who I was supposed to be. But what I didn’t realize was that those songs were just capturing a moment in time, not the entirety of life. Music has a way of distilling emotions and experiences into something simple, catchy, or memorable, but it doesn’t show the complexity of how we change over time.

I’ve realized that the fun part is in discovering. It’s not about having everything figured out or being able to label yourself with one fixed identity. It’s about being open to who you might become and accepting that you don’t have to have a concrete sense of self all at once. The pressure to define yourself, especially when you’re young, is a lot to handle, and it's unrealistic. But it’s also a beautiful thing to embrace the process of change, to allow yourself to grow into someone you didn’t know you could be.

So, as much as those films and songs shaped my view of what life should be like, I’ve learned that real life isn’t a soundtrack or a montage. It’s messy, unpredictable, and ever-changing. Who I am today isn’t who I’ll be tomorrow, and that’s not something to fear—it’s something to embrace. Because in the end, we’re all just figuring it out, and the beauty of life is in that discovery.

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18: You Don’t Need a Timeline

Feeling behind in life is the worst feeling ever. Watching people move forward—getting jobs, getting into relationships, traveling—while you feel like you’re stuck is exhausting.

When I was 18, I was beyond excited to attend Lynn University. It had been my dream for as long as I could remember. For the past year, I’d been making the long drive from Orlando to Boca Raton, building connections, networking, and putting myself out there in every possible way. I was determined to make this dream a reality. I even turned down other schools that had accepted me, believing Lynn was the place I was meant to be. But then, in May, just when everything seemed set, they raised the tuition by $20,000. With the scholarship and grant I had, I was still left with a huge gap I just couldn’t fill. I felt blindsided, betrayed even, because they had promised a certain cost, but in the end, it was simply out of my reach.

At that moment, I had no choice but to enroll in community college. It felt like the end of the world. I watched as my friends packed up to leave for university, and I stayed behind, stuck in my hometown. I thought it was the worst thing that could happen to me. The future I had envisioned for myself felt like it was slipping away, and I was left with a sense of defeat.

But as much as I struggled with it at first, looking back, I now realize it was truly a blessing in disguise. That setback opened up opportunities I never would have had if I had gone to Lynn. I was able to work, which helped me develop a solid financial foundation. I traveled, which exposed me to new experiences and ideas that broadened my perspective. I even moved into my own place, something I never imagined I’d be doing so soon. The extra time and space allowed me to dive into my passion for photography something I’d always wanted to pursue but never had the time to fully commit to. I was able to take on internships that helped me gain practical experience and grow my professional network. I made connections with people who became mentors and friends, shaping both my personal and career growth in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

Looking back, it’s clear that life didn’t go the way I expected, but it went exactly where I needed to be. Sometimes, the hardest moments bring the most growth, and I wouldn’t trade the lessons I’ve learned along the way. That unexpected detour, while painful in the moment, has shaped me into the person I am today. It’s given me the confidence to embrace the unpredictability of life, knowing that even when things don’t go as planned, there are still amazing opportunities ahead.

But there’s no rulebook saying you have to be at a certain point by a certain age. Some people figure things out at 18, some at 30. There’s no deadline for success, for happiness, for love. You’re not late you’re on your own path.

19: The Heartbreak Won’t Last Forever

Heartbreak doesn’t last forever. This is something I’m still learning at 19.

Going through my most recent breakup (even though we never technically dated) was one of the hardest things I’ve had to handle. When it first happened, it didn’t feel real—I had no genuine emotion. I thought maybe I was dreaming, that the following night I’d be back in his apartment wrapped in his arms and talking until 2 a.m. about our days. But that random Sunday ended up being the last time we ever spoke again genuinely.

At first, I didn’t cry, It felt like just another failed situationship, and I convinced myself I’d be fine. But everything came crashing down the first time I saw my mom after the breakup. That was the moment I knew it wasn’t just another casual ending that felt like I had lost the person I thought I’d be with for years. And in a way, I did.

For weeks I was a mess. And I don’t mean the kind of heartbreak where you cry dramatically in the shower while listening to sad music, I mean insane in the way that I tried to act like I didn’t care where I was trying to be nonchalant and pushing everyone away. But It didn't work, I cared a lot and pretending not to just made it worse.

Every time I saw him happy, I spiraled not because I wasn't happy for him (because I was) I spiraled because I wondered how he could be so okay while I'm falling apart about not being able to talk to him anymore. I missed the 2am conversations, his scent, his hugs but most of all, I missed my friend. The person I told everything to. Maybe it all moved too fast, but to me, I was already head over heels from the moment I saw him. And from my perspective, it felt like none of this phased him the way it did me. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe he misses me and wants to talk again someday. Maybe he hates me. I’ll never know the part that killed me.

The worst part wasn’t just losing him, it was the way I dealt with it. I isolated myself, thinking the only way to get over him was to turn my emotions into hatred. But I couldn’t, I tried to act like I was fine, but my notes app and my friends knew the truth. The nights were the hardest. That’s when it hit the most.

A few weeks after, I went to get my stuff back from him, and he said the words that, if anything, made things worse:

“I never wanted to break up.”

That sentence unraveled everything. If he never wanted it to end, then why did he let me go so easily? If he didn’t want this, why wasn’t he clearer? I spent hours overthinking every scenario, replaying different versions of our story where we didn’t break up, where I didn’t have to go through this.

But despite all the pain, a small part of me was grateful for the space. With the breakup, I realized how much I had pushed aside for him. Not his fault—mine. We spent nearly every moment together, convincing ourselves that we had to because soon we’d both be busy with work and wouldn’t have time. But maybe if we had just taken some space back then, if he had communicated when he started feeling like things were moving too fast, maybe it wouldn’t have blown up the way it did.

But maybe it needed to.

Because in the middle of my heartbreak and spiraling, I also found my way back to myself. I threw myself into the gym, into school, into the parts of me I had neglected. I tried to “heal” in unhealthy ways, but even in that, I rediscovered things I had lost—my love for running, my dedication to school, my friendships, my family. I made amends where I needed to because I had pushed people away.

And no, I’m not saying I don’t still miss him. I do. I miss my old friends. I miss the beginning of it all. But I also hope he’s happy. I hope he gets everything he wants—new friendships, relationships, wild experiences. And I hope I do too.Because at the end of the day, what felt like the end of the world wasn’t.

What I'm saying is that you don't have to be completely over your heartbreak. It's okay to miss them while still moving forward with your life and growth. Don't feel the need to distract yourself it's important to be okay with being alone. It's okay to miss them, and it's okay to be on your own. Heal without distractions.

I think a part of me will always miss him, but I also know that because of him, I healed in ways I never expected. I saw the ways I self-sabotage in relationships, and I started working on them. And I love that.

Heartbreak doesn’t mean you won’t love again, it just means you’ll love harder. You’ll love differently.

For me, I’ll never regret heartbreak. The heartbreak at 23 will teach me new things about myself. The heartbreak at 25 will show me that I did heal that I can be clingy, and obsessive, but also communicate and dream about a future with someone without fear.

And for that, I’ll always be grateful.

Heartbreak lasts a while, but never forever. And some days, you don’t need to focus on healing—you just need to live. So don’t forget to be young. Don’t forget to make mistakes. Don’t forget to love and lose and try again.

Because in the end, that’s what life is about, trial and error then getting up and trying again.

Turning 20: What Now?

Looking back, these past seven years have been weird, chaotic, painful, and beautiful. I learned that healing isn’t linear, that friendships are fluid, that heartbreak is temporary, and that I don’t have to have everything figured out. I’ve learned that every phase no matter how embarrassing it served a purpose. That letting go is sometimes necessary. That life doesn’t follow a timeline, and neither should I. Learn to be okay by yourself, and its okay to not have everything figured out.

Most of all, I’ve learned that it’s okay to just be. To exist without pressure, to live without overanalyzing, to love without fear.

So here’s to 20. To whatever comes next.