Tomorrow is my thirtieth birthday. I’ve specifically requested no parties, no surprises, no huge ridiculous festival to mark what I know is a milestone, simply because I’ve never been a party person, and much as I love receiving good wishes and card and such, I’m not really comfortable with the whole concept of being the centre of attention on my birthday. Perhaps because I never really had enough friends growing up to have a party.
The whole turning thirty concept has been creeping up on me and scaring me to death all year. Most of my friends are older than me, so I’ve heard a lot of ‘watch out thirty changes you’. Part of me wonders whether I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling any different than I do today.
It would seem the universe was determined to fit as much into my last two years in my twenties as possible. I look back at all of the massive changes in my life since I was 28 and it gives me a headache. Most of those changes have been good, some have been heart wrenching. The same as any span of time in any life, I’ve loved and lost and gained and lost again. There are so many times I look in the mirror and don’t see a woman at all, I still see a kid, who has no idea what her life is doing, and wonders how on earth she ended up where she is. But I think in the long run we all feel that, and I think we’d be fooling ourselves if we said otherwise.
Does life begin at thirty? I don’t know. I haven’t found out yet.
But I guess I know one thing…at least it doesn’t end.
30 is awesome. I’m killing it. A little sorry to give it up in November.
Happy 30th to you! I don’t think it changes you – but all that you do, and all the changes that happen in your 20s, somehow prepare you for being the person you will be in your 30s. Still you, just MORE you! Which can only be a good thing, when you’re you.