Today is my 30th birthday, and I thought it would feel a lot different than it does. I assumed it would a dramatic, life changing event, that I would be anxious and depressed about the end of my 20’s and the decade ahead.
But as I sit here drinking my coffee, watching my husband sleep on the couch and my kids raid the fridge for oranges and apples, I’m actually pretty content. I’m excited even about the years ahead.
My 20’s were kind of a powerhouse, a never-ending hurricane in a way. I got married, added two babies to our family, and moved constantly. I lost three grandfathers, two cousins, and three friends in this time. I ceased contact with my parents, and then reconnected and rebuilt our relationship. I dealt with debilitating anxiety and depression, I almost got a divorce. I watched my youngest almost die.
In my 20’s I spent a lot of time searching for answers. I spent a good two years feeling like I couldn’t breathe with all of the crap that seemed to be thrown at me in every turn. Why do I have to lose so many people? What is wrong with my baby? Why is God letting all of this happen to us?
I found my heart in my 20’s. My relationship with God, the Episcopal church that I feel called to. Advocating for medical cannabis, for a fair chance for Austen and others who face challenges like her. I learned to take care of myself, started therapy and got on an antidepressant.
My 20’s were fast and hard, but looking back I wouldn’t change them for anything.
And now I here I sit, as of writing this I have been 30 for exactly 6 hours and 6 minutes. The sun is shining over the snow and ice in my backyard brought on by yesterdays blizzard. It seems kind of fitting that the hurricane of my 20’s ended so fittingly with howling wind and snow that came through. And now I am left with the crisp, clean omen of what it left behind.
No, I’m not afraid or upset about this new decade.
I feel in my bones that my 30’s are going to bring good things. I don’t know what they are yet. A new career? A new home? I’m sure there will be heartache, but I know there will also be happiness. There will be hugs and kisses from my little ones, the teenage years and all that they entail for my oldest.
I might not ever lose the five pounds that are holding fast to my body almost four years after having my oldest; I might not become a millionaire or write a best selling novel.
Whatever happens in the next ten years there is one thing I know for sure: Thirty, I’m ready for you.
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