Adulthood is weird. It’s like you spend your entire childhood and teen years imagining how “together” it’ll all feel—then one day you wake up with a stack of bills, an inbox full of unread emails, and this nagging thought: Is this it?
For a while, I thought maybe I was the problem. Like maybe I just wasn’t cut out for adulthood, because no matter how much I checked the boxes—work, school, responsibilities—I still felt like something was missing.
But this year, something shifted. When I didn’t know how to make my adult self happy, I turned to the version of me who once did know: teenage me.
And to my surprise, it’s actually been working.
Adulthood doesn’t always look like the dream I thought it would. Hell, even my wedding—it’s not “adult Eryn’s” dream wedding. Grown-up me wanted a classic June 3rd garden wedding, three bridesmaids, a floaty dress, and the classic “chicken or beef” entrees. Eden Gardens was literally my dream venue (seriously, someone please get married there and send me photos—it’s gorgeous).
But… a $30,000 party? Even if I had the money, that felt ridiculous. So instead, Hector and I planned the wedding our kid selves would have dreamed of. Corpse Bride has always been one of my favorite movies, and Hector once mentioned he always thought a Halloween wedding would be magical. So that’s what we’re doing—leaning into the version of joy that feels truest to us.
And it’s not just the wedding.
I started letting 2012 Eryn take the wheel for other things, too. She was unfiltered, passionate, and maybe a little dramatic, but she knew what made her feel alive. She loved music so much it cracked her chest open. So, I’ve been following her lead:
- Saw The Lumineers live, the soundtrack of so many nights spent dreaming as a teen.
- Saw Hozier last year, and his voice still cuts right through me the way it did in the Tumblr days.
- I’m going to see Twenty One Pilots soon—my heart already races the way it did the first time I heard Car Radio.
- Bought a lightsaber, because why not lean into the silly?
- Read the new Hunger Games book—a full circle moment from the days of braiding my hair like Katniss and crying over Rue.
- And maybe the most unexpected: my niece got a violin. I played violin from first grade until high school, and now I’m seriously considering getting one for myself again—so I can practice alongside her and maybe even teach her a few things.
None of this is just about nostalgia. It’s about finding joy again. About reminding myself that buried under bills and burnout is still the girl who wanted to live loudly.
And here’s the quiet victory: I’ve also started standing up for myself in ways teenage me could only daydream about. Protecting my peace. Advocating for myself. Becoming the version of me that used to scare me a little—in the best way.
This isn’t regression. It’s a reunion. Healing and growth don’t always look like buying a house or climbing a career ladder. Sometimes they look like screaming lyrics in a crowd, rereading a book that cracked your heart open years ago, or picking up a violin again just because it sparks something.
2012 me is screaming—and maybe that’s the best sign yet.
Because maybe adulthood doesn’t come with a guidebook. But when you’re lost, sometimes your younger self can remind you where the joy is.
And for me right now? That joy looks like concerts, lightsabers, Halloween weddings, and maybe, just maybe, dusting off an old violin.
