I’ve hit a milestone. I’m not married, I have no kiddos, and I’m still overall happy with what I’ve accomplished thus far.
I’ve see soo many friends in their 20s, 30s and 40s that are trying soo hard to live their lives like they are 50+. Desperate for careers and relationships or marriage. I’m starting to get it. Slow down. Enjoy this life while I can. So I’ve been told, the 30’s are the best years of your life. I’m finally old enough to be taken seriously, and young enough to still make mistakes.
Let’s be honest. I was scared about turning 30. I cried, the night before and the morning of. I felt mildly depressed: I’d never be young again. My body would slowly break down and betray me. I don’t know if it was because I was saying goodbye to my adolescence or because I had realized I had soo much on my ‘to do’ list I hadn’t accomplished yet at this age.
I’ve met a plethora of people over the years and every day has been an adventure. I’ve made some pretty amazing memories that will be forever engraved in my mind. I’ve lived an eventful life in my 20’s and I truly can’t wait to see what my 30’s bring. I can only hope that my 30’s are just as eventful.
Truth is, turning 30 carries with it a certain sadness. Not everything is available at the ‘buffet table’. I think it’s okay to mourn a bit while also reflecting on the decisions I made to get where I am. I thought that by 30, I’d be married with kids. I’m not, and so on my birthday I wondered, Have I failed? Am I behind? I look at the stuff I’ve accomplished: I got my Bachelors before I turned 21, have an exciting job and have my own place. I’m feel I’m entering my thirties, happier and more confident than when I did in my twenties.
It can only go up from here, right?