A long time since 22

Or so goes the lyric in John Mayer’s song “Who Says.”

When I first heard the song, that was the phrase that got stuck in my head. Because it’s true. It’s been a long time since 22. Not so much in years as in change, maturity, mind-set, and plans. A lot of life has run its rushing course through the time, space, and dreams of Mandy at 22 and Mandy at 31.

Just think about who you were at 22. What you wanted from life. Where you thought you were headed. Who you wanted to become. Now compare who you are today and what you want for the future. Do they match up? Does you at 22 recognize yourself now and vice versa?

I was 22 when I graduated from undergrad. I graduated in May (magna cum laude, I tell you) and moved to Nashville in June. That summer, I worked two jobs: one as an intern at United Methodist Communications as a production assistant/researcher of sorts and one in the call center at my current company. Right before I turned 23, I began working as an intern/temp in the communications department at my current company. I joined a church in Nashville. I sort of dated a boy and thought it was my first “grown-up” relationship. I got left in the dust by said boy and was pretty hurt in that process (as dumb and juvenile as it all seems now, it really hurt then). I was going to grad school at Vanderbilt. I was juggling managing an apartment, a job, and school.

I thought I was pretty awesome. At 22, I was fairly sure that working in the communications department was what I wanted to do, at least for the next several years, until I got too good for that and had to move on to a religious news service or something. I really wanted to tell the stories and do the best work possible, but there was a part of me that just wanted to make a name for myself. I figured that would happen in time. I thought I had job security. and knew exactly where my life was headed. I figured I’d be married by the time I was 26 and that somewhere down the road, I’d have some children and I’d live happily ever after with a husband and kids in the suburbs of Nashville.

Me at 31 laughs at me at 22. So naive! So immature! So all-about-me!

Life diverged from the path I thought I would walk when I was 22. My job ended and I wasn’t hired on full time in communications. I got a different job. I didn’t get married. I graduated. I made new friends. I bought a condo. And I learned that what I do has nothing to do with me and everything to do with God. That it’s not about making a name for myself and being known by teenagers who read the magazine I edit; it’s about proclaiming His name and His truth and helping teens understand how much He loves them. I’m just a piece in that big picture plan—and I’m happy, blessed, and honored to do it. I learned that my worth wasn’t based on whether a guy loved me or not. I’ve learned that it’s not all about me and that there are things that matter and things you just need to let go of.

So as I look at the picture of me and my brother on my graduation day at Mizzou, I smile at 22 year-old-me. She’s caught in that picture, getting ready to start a great adventure of actually striving to live her faith and follow God’s will and she doesn’t even know it yet. She thinks she knows so much. She thinks she’s experienced heartache and disappointment. She’s so naive and the tiniest bit scared—of the future, of the unknown, of tripping on the stage when they call her name during the ceremony.

And she’s me. Or at least a part of me—but I wouldn’t take back a second of the adventure I’ve walked, run, cried, and laughed through.

Oh, you said it, John Mayer. It’s been a long time since 22.