Dear Digital Diary

Dear Digital Diary,

perhaps I’m finally maturing.

I’ve still got a few years until my brain is considered ‘fully developed’, but I feel as though I’m starting to migrate that way. It wasn’t like I hit any sort of epiphany, but it’s beginning to show in subtle ways, gradually entering a more mature state. Sort of like how one day I woke up and decided that any green vegetable actually tasted good. It’s not awe-inspiring stuff. Just little things that I began to notice.

Here are five of those things:

The Value of a Good Hug

When testing which was my most prominent love language, my score for physical touch was always the lowest. I don’t hate it, but I really don’t love it. I avoid it at most costs. For some people, they need to be within a constant tight proximity to another human in order to feel the optimum amount of love. Maybe it was something in my childhood, maybe I’m just built differently. I would always go for a little gift or a note rather than a hug. 

That being said, when my emotions are high, positive or negative, there is nothing like a good hug. It’s the subtlety of someone saying “I’ve got you” without words, or “congratulations” without confetti. Sometimes I’ll stand in that hug, one of the few ways one’s heart can be that close to someone else, and I understand what everyone goes on about. It feels good. Not just for the body, but also the soul. 

The Value of Whole Foods (Not the Store)

When I was younger, my mother insisted on buying everything organic. I’d go to school with a wheat-bread sandwich, a cottage cheese, and a vegetable or fruit. I grew up in the early 2010’s where snack foods were all the rage and flavored drinks were trendy. I wanted to be like everyone else and desired to fit in so badly, so I begged my mom for “normal” food. 

I’m 22 now. I’m gluten intolerant and have since learned how my body works. I simply run better when I cook from whole foods. For lunch yesterday, I made a simple dish (maybe I will write something about this one day) that had only eight ingredients. It’s not about the obsession of being healthy, but it just makes me feel good. I’m grateful to have access to that sort of food so I can feel better on the daily and am also thankful for my mother who tried to instill that knowledge in me when I was young (and I’m sorry for giving her such a hard time about it.)

The Value of True Friendship

I truly would not be able to function without the friendships in my life. In my experience, when I was young, the friendships I had were about convenience, fun, and the hope that I wouldn’t feel so alone. As I grew, I realized the fundamentals of a platonic relationship, and that it’s not always convenient, not always fun, but if it’s a good friendship with a solid foundation, you won’t ever feel alone. 

And they do take work, which is something I learned later that I failed to learn before. Most arguments are forgivable with the reminder that we’re all human. But my girls have never failed me when I needed them. The friends I made in childhood are the ones that have seen me through my most embarrassing phases. The friends I made in college have seen me drunk and lovesick. Every one of them brings their own aura to my little solar system, and how wonderful each of them are. 

The Value of Sunshine

There’s a saying that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. And during a gray Maine winter, that is the case. All of the sudden, during the third snowstorm of the week where I am huddled up inside my parent’s house, inside a wintry snow globe, I find myself missing the sunshine. 

There’s science behind the sunshine and vitamin D, and how it helps your overall mood become…sunny, to say the least. I just feel so good when the sunshine cascades over my face, and my paleness soaks up the sunshine so I glow like a sunset on a summer evening. It’s my favorite thing, and I miss it. I should probably go outside more.

The Value of Noticing (and a Quiet Moment)

With social media flashing twenty videos per second, new music releasing every Friday, the constant current event updates, the changing of the weather, and the life stressors that mix with the average body’s up and down system, it’s sometimes difficult to find the quiet moments. But once I do, I try to sit with it as long as possible. 

It’s as simple as noticing. Much like meditation, there is nothing but myself and my breath. And as I move through breathing, I notice the sound of the snow melting on the tin roof. Then there’s the sunshine, peeking through the window and lighting up the patch of carpet on the floor. It’s warm, so I move from the couch to sit there instead. There’s a ladybug crawling along the hardwood. It’s supposed to be lucky. I wouldn’t have seen it if I hadn’t looked. And on the bird feeder outside, there’s a chickadee dropping seeds for the red squirrel below it. It’s those quiet moments that hold so much more value in a world of constant noise, and the little things that present themselves when I feel there is no more value in living. 

Maturity isn’t linear, and it isn’t loud. Like those quiet moments, growth happens subtly, without the need to announce it. It’s stability over chaos. Nourishment over trendiness. Depth over noise. Presence over performance. My life is meant to be lived the way I feel is best. It’s happening. I’m learning. I’m here.