“Do you feel like 30 has been cliché? Like maybe we’re living the first act of a rom com?”
I grabbed drinks with Mik tonight, a friend I’ve had for nearly two decades. Really, at that point friend seems too small of a word. Anyway, as we caught up trading stories of travel, career, culture, and men I realized how cool the moment was. We do not keep in the best touch, but she has an idea of what I’m up to and I generally keep track of her as well. When I’m home we try to meet up. And yet here we were discussing a year’s worth of events as we’d lived through them together. “Is this thirty?”
There’s a groove you’ve found yourself in, a rhythm. It is the way you do everything. It’s your pulse. You know how to do your life. Everything from cook your own meal to change your own tire to buying a house. There’s a confidence that comes with competency. Also you’ve found yourself looking in the mirror at the woman who swore she’d never do the thing you just did. Your (good) friends don’t judge you for it, and oddly enough you don’t judge yourself. Instead you find yourself growing quite fond of the color grey and the phrase, “Well…it depends…”
The dividing line between singles and smug marrieds now fully exists. Your various timelines are flooded with ultrasounds, nursery decor and maternity photoshoots which you scroll through with complete disinterest as you wait for your table at the hot new restaurant downtown.
The relationship you have with your parents has transitioned. It’s not that their opinion doesn’t matter, but you are very firm in communicating that yours matters more. You’re an adult. I’m an adult. I really feel like one and it happened overnight somewhere between 25 and this very moment.
To date, my 30s have been wonderful. Nothing has topped the confidence. No longer feeling like a shy little girl waiting for someone to notice me or affirm me, I learned to do it myself. I became less judgmental; truly believing that everyone is both fighting a battle and doing the best that they believe they can at that time in that moment. I learned to never say never. I allowed myself to surprised myself. Getting out of the lines of myself and growing around it. Into it.
I’ve seen parts of the world I never though I would see, and I’ve seen parts of my Self I never thought I could see. Like my sexiness. But at 30, I stepped into it. I booked a flight, first class, to my own carnal energy and I explored. I’m still exploring and I’m not afraid to say that. To admit that because I’m grown. Really grown. I’m not saying it to convince anyone, I’m repeating it because it is still so surreal.
And as I continue to toil my own soil and dig further into my own earth, I’ll plant the seeds. A garden of my own making rather than the fields I was born in. That is thirty. It’s blossoming. Spreading your petals up towards the sunshine so as to say, “I am here!”