Earlier this month, I turned 29 1/2 years old.
It may seem juvenile that I still celebrate my "un"-birthday, but it's a tradition between me and my mom. It started because my closest cousin's birthday is one day shy of my half-birthday. Since my mom was never one to throw big parties on my actual birthday, she made up for it by giving me a smaller gift on my half-birthday. (Yes, I realize by admitting this I am only validating that I'm a spoiled only child. Oh well.)
As I creep closer to 30, I'm looking at the dawn of a new decade with both exuberance and anxiety, confidence and trepidation. On one hand, the close of my 20s marks the end of a pretty remarkable run: the decade in which I graduated from my dream college, married my dream man, bought our dream house, had not one but two children, left one not-so-dreamy career for one that's exceeded my wildest expectations.
It's been an adventure.
As I look ahead to the next phase of my life, I am captivated by the stability it seems to offer. Whereas your 20s can be a time of upheaval -- searching for a home, both physically and metaphorically, and someone (or several someones) to share it with -- your 30s, at least from the outside looking in, seem like a period of security. Of knowing what you want and, if you're lucky, having the resources and wherewithall to go after it.
Of course, your 30s are also a sign you're getting older. At 30, I won't be able to claim I'm a kid anymore. The mistakes of my youth will -- hopefully -- be behind me. As a full-fledged, card-carrying adult (they do give you an adult card when you hit the big 3-0, right?), you don't depend on your parents as much... and this is where the fear comes in. I have so many friends who have lost a parent in their 30s; as I get older, so do my parents and everyone else I hold dear. I know the passage of time is inevitable, but its affects can still be a tough pill to swallow.
So here's to 29 1/2... I plan to hang on to that "1/2" for as long as I can. And when next April 6th rolls around (don't you dare forget my birthday!), I'll embrace the arrival of my 30s as much as I'll be mourning the end of my 20s.
This entry was posted
on Monday, October 10, 2011
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I turn 30 in one month and two days (not that I'm counting).
Just this past weekend I was having a conversation with some of my friends (one is 32, the other 34) about how I don't feel 30. I still feel like I'm in my early 20s. A college student who still doesn't know what the hell she's doing with her life. And I look at all of these friends of mine that are my same age or younger, who are married and have kids, and then there's me.
But the interesting part is that I think even as a young child I knew, deep down, that I would be the type of woman who married in her mid thirties and had a kid in her late thirties. I don't know why, but that makes sense to me. Like I needed to spend my twenties making stupid mistakes to find myself and find the security to enter thirty as an adventure ready to settle down. So this upcoming birthday is only the beginning for me.
Happy half birthday!
30 is great! You've inspired me, when I get around to editing it, I'll be posting my blog about 30 being fantastic too.
Happy half-birthday!
You crack me up! I embraced 30 easy, but it was a swift kick towards my biological clock...