Emily Fitzgerald

Emily Fitzgerald

We all know that, generally, 2020 has been a disaster. Like, 1904 Olympic Marathon-level of disaster (seriously, look it up on Google — especially if you like not knowing whether your tears are from laughing or crying). But in my experience, the darkest times tend to lead to some of the shiniest silver linings.

For one, I turned 25 this year: A milestone for a couple of reasons (I can rent a car now! I’m a full-grown Adult Person!), but most namely because my 19-year-old self, curled up on the floor of her dorm room after just barely talking herself out of jumping off the balcony, said something that never quite unstuck itself from the back of her mind: “It’ll be a miracle if I make it to 25.” In that moment, 25 seemed like an impossible milestone. Emily at 25 would have graduated college, gotten a job that she likes, probably rents her own apartment and would know how to keep a plant, and herself, alive — all things that felt impossible to the 19-year-old curled up on her dorm-room floor. That 25-year-old is alive now because that 19-year-old decided to get up, get help, and carry on. And not a day goes by that I’m not grateful for her, and the friends and family who helped her and loved her. I’m far from perfect (plants remain a mystery) and still have days that are more bad than good, but overall, I’m so much healthier and happier now than I was at 19.