By Evie Wright
Today, I turn 30.
As I sit here at the edge of a new decade, I find myself reflecting on the journey that brought me here.
Five years ago, I was at my lowest. Not just because of my circumstances, though they were heavy - losing my job, being alone in a new state, watching the world shut down around me as COVID19 started - but because I didn’t know me. I had spent years contorting myself into someone more acceptable, more agreeable, more “fine.”
I smiled when I wanted to scream. I nodded when I wanted to object. I played the part, hoping that if I performed well enough, the emptiness inside me would disappear.
But it didn’t. It deepened.
It sank into my bones, showed up in the tightness of my jaw, the exhaustion that sleep never touched, the dull ache of existing but not feeling.
And then, this past Monday, time folded in on itself.
I had just finished teaching two back-to-back yoga classes at my favorite studio and as the last attendee left, suddenly, I saw her—my 25 year old self at the back of the studio, the one who thought she had to earn her place in the world by being agreeable, by being small. I realized who she was. I realized who I had become.
I cried. The tears weren’t of despair. They were tears of recognition. Of homecoming. And what struck me most wasn’t the crying itself, but what happened next: absolutely nothing.
No voice inside me whispered, “Shush, Evie, you’re being too much.”
No internal critic rushed to shove these feelings back into their box.
No shame followed the tears as they traced warm paths down my cheeks.
Instead, I felt joy. Pure, unrestricted joy.
Joy that I had found my way back to the woman who feels deeply and doesn’t apologize for it. Joy that the parts of me I once thought needed to be hidden are now the very parts I cherish most.
Yoga became my refuge back then—not because it taught me to rise above my emotions, but because it taught me to be with them. And here I was, holding space for others to come back to themselves. To breathe into the tight spaces. To find strength in surrender. To trust the wisdom of the body when it speaks through tears or laughter.
As I step into this next decade of my life, I want to hold onto that knowing. But I also know that life will test me—that the world still has its expectations, that old habits can creep in, that there will be moments I feel lost again.
So, I’m committing to something new: writing to myself the way I would to a dear friend. And when I inevitably need reminding, I’ll turn to this:
Write A Best Friend Letter
Welcome the feelings: Start with "Dear [your name]," and acknowledge what you're struggling with right now. Be specific about the emotions and thoughts coming up…
Remember your humanity: Remind yourself that everyone faces similar challenges. For example: "Making mistakes in relationships is part of being human. You're not alone in this perfectly imperfect experience.”
Imagine the support: Write what your wisest, most caring friend would say to you. What understanding would they offer? What perspective might they share
Trust your strength: Highlight your capabilities and past experiences.
For example: "Remember last year's difficult project? You felt overwhelmed
but broke it down into smaller steps, asked for help, and found your way through. You have that same strength now.”Express encouragement: Close with specific words of support. What do
you most need to hear right now? Be sure to Sign the letter: "With love and understanding, [your name]"
Because if I’ve learned anything in the past five years, it’s that I don’t need to be less, smaller, or easier to hold. I just need to be with myself.
So here’s to 30.
To full circles.
To tears that flow without shame.
To being exactly as much as I am.
Please note: We are mindful that 'girl' and 'woman' are socially constructed ideas of gender that can fall painfully short of defining the fabulous complexity of who we each are. If these words resonate with part of how you have previously or currently identified yourself, we'd love to hear about your lived experiences.
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