I turned 30 two days ago. I was not prepared for all that I would feel on the day. I hadn’t planned any special celebrations (I don’t like birthday celebrations much); I had only planned to attend a good friend’s wedding celebration.
To be honest among all the travel and festivities I almost forgot it would be my 30th birthday until the eve of. I felt uneasy as the hours of the night passed, and midnight neared.
Fortunately I was able to let those around me know it was my birthday, so I did get to celebrate a little bit, although I didn’t feel happy about it. I thought – this is it? This is 30? I sure don’t feel 30. I don’t want to leave the comfort of being in my twenties.
It was only during the few days after my birthday that I realized why I was so down. It had always been engrained in me, as I’m sure is true for many in society, that by 30 a woman should ideally have married, have or be preparing to have children, and have a successful career. I don’t feel I’ve “accomplished” any of those. That’s why 30 felt empty. There was no joy in it.
It took a few reminders, some thinking, and a few days for me to realize it is something to celebrate. LIFE is something to celebrate. To have good health, to live comfortably, to wake up and take a deep breath in every morning, to be able to surround yourself with loving family and friends – these are all blessings to celebrate. There’s no timeline we need to adhere to (men and women alike). We’re each on our own individual paths, working toward what we each desire in our own time.
I know in five years I will look back and think: “ah, to be young and 30”. Age is relative. I’m feeling more centered and composed. Feeling more confident. If 30 means being able to live another year of trials and errors, gains and losses, connection and love, light and sometimes not so much light, then I welcome it with open arms.