"What is the point of being almost 22 when there is still so much to learn?"

That is one of my favorite quotes from the book/movie Emma by Jane Austin.

As I approach my 30th birthday in March, I find myself looking at life from a different perspective and asking, "What is the point in being almost 30 if there is still so much to learn?"

I have learned a lot in the last year. I learned that I love Starbucks unsweetened iced coffee with cream and two splendas more than a frappuccino. I learned that the Public library has free passes to the museums, you just have to go early in the week in order to actually get one. I learned that I am capable of keeping my nose from sunburning in the hot sun if I re-apply sunscreen every hour or so. I learned that I really do love Chicago, although I'm still not convinced I'll live here long-term.

More importantly, I've learned that I have community in Chicago that really does think of me as family. (Dang, that's a hard concept for me.) I've learned that I have a really difficult time trusting anybody...even people I call my closest friends. I've learned that when I want to invest in a person as a friend, I want to give a good deal of time and attention to them...so I've learned I can't do that with everybody. I've learned that the reason that is so important to me is because I want to find out if they are safe enough for me to share all of me. Few make the cut. I've learned that there's one, in particular, that I have really hurt by not being able to fully trust her. I haven't yet learned how to set boundaries with those who wish to be a closer friend of mine (and I know I don't have the time) without feeling like a bad person or inadvertantly hurting their feelings.

I'm learning that there are some people in my life that I may not see or talk to often, but will always be important to me. I will periodically check in on them and we'll pick up right where we left off. I think of the people that I lived with, worked with and went to school with in Detroit.

I've learned I need to take time before I react to something. Apparently I process more like a male in that I need time to think about it before my true feelings come out. My thoughts in the heat of the moment almost always don't ring true a day later. I've learned the power of journaling. I'm in process of learning that always self-sacrificing is a bad thing, not a selfless thing. I'm learning how to not be confused by this me that is learning how to live life differently.

It's hard work, this learning. Downright exhausting at times, and I find myself wishing to go back to blissful ignorance about certain things. I'm not going to give up, though.