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On Turning Thirty...

I am on the brink of turning 30.  And you know what? I’m not even mad about it. I know what you’re thinking.
“30 is still a baby”
“That’s still young”
“I don’t even remember being 30”
You know what I have to say to all that,  “save it, sister.”
When you’re exiting a complete decade, it seems like kind of a big deal. My entire identity for the last 10 years has been linked to “my twenties.” This is not a blog about being old. This has nothing to do with the inevitability of aging.  This is about transition. It’s about personal growth. It’s about noticing the subtle, gradual changes that occur every single day, and then you wake up one morning realizing that you’ve done a 180.
A lot happens in a decade. I think of who I was at 20 and who I am at 29. I feel like those two people are not even from the same planet. I can’t help but feel a giddy sense of excitement about my future. I can’t wait to look back when I am 39 and say the same thing about 30, “those two gals don’t even know each other.”  Actually I can wait because wrinkles and gray hair. Yikes.
Honestly, I feel like I hit 30 a couple of years ago. First of all,  I’m married to a senior citizen (almost 38), so that has helped ease my transition into adulthood. I’m also a mom. Nothing prepares you quicker than being fully responsible for another life. Marking Dependent on your taxes. Hell, even having to fill out your own taxes (let me be serious for one minute and say that I have still never done my own taxes).  I also have a real, full-time job. It comes with a 401k and stuff. I am paying back student loans. The struggle is so real. Now, my digits have caught up to me. The big 3-0.
I have this excitement that I can’t explain. I feel like my 30s are going to be so awesome and amazing that I can’t even handle it. I think I’m going to do big things. All of my stars are aligning. Every single thing that has happened has led up to this moment. This new decade. It’s like opening a brand new blank notebook. I mean, BRING IT.
I have spent a great deal of time over the past couple of weeks reflecting on this new decade of opportunity. Some ladies lament turning 30. They feel “old.” All of the sudden, you’re a bit seasoned. You aren’t hot off press anymore. You’ve been out of college longer than you were in college. I am not that girl.  I’ve come up with a few reasons why being 30 is actually so much better than being, say 23. Good God, I never want to be 23 again. PTL that’s over.

This blog will be published in mini-series. This first series is called “So Happy I’m Thirty, or S.H.I.T for short.” For the next several weeks, I will submit a brief little post about one of the many reasons that being 30 is actually the Bees Knees. So, chin up buttercup. Life only gets better from here. Stay tuned because it’s about to get real.

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