I turned thirty next to the glow of white Christmas tree lights. Many memories and moments came flooding back to me, some of which felt incredibly distant. I remember being twenty-two, the year he fell in love with me. Everything is different now.

I remember the morning glow on a Saturday as a little girl. The comfort I felt waking up with my toys and my imagination was everything. If that little girl could see who I’ve become, resilient and authentic, she’d be proud. She’d hate the tears that fell this year, though. I hope the tears water the flowers that will bloom next year.

I roamed around the house late at night, soaking in the stillness. The laundry was ready to be put away, and my new books were begging to be read. I grasped my wine glass and exhaled the past year. The cold Chardonnay tasted like adulthood. The playlist that drifted through the house hit me like a wave crashing. My OCD has been clinging to me, like fallen leaves on wet sidewalks.

As I turned another year older, I thought a lot about what I know, without a doubt. I know that peace isn’t expensive…it’s an early morning, a favorite candle lit, or a glass of wine with a good friend. I understand that the world right now is scary and not what I imagined it to be when I was younger. I know that the beautiful people in my life mean the world to me. I know that there is something magical about the winter and the holiday season. And, I know that I love presents, but the greatest gift of all is happiness, the kind of happiness you feel as a child at play, or when someone first falls for you…when you’re twenty-two and wild.