What It Means Is.
I've been 30 for two weeks now, so obviously it's time to reflect on what it means.
In the days leading up to my birthday I was experiencing a lot of emotions, which is new and strange. I usually only feel excitement because I love birthdays, especially mine. But you know that saying, "when one thing goes well in your life everything else falls to shit?" I'm paraphrasing but you know what I'm talking about right? I am a living embodiment of that saying at this current moment in time. So many things in my life are going well right now. They're not perfect, nothing ever is, but I'm truly happy with my job, with my passion in Theatre, with my attempts to be a writer, with the life I live every day. But every year my family make plans to have dinner on whoever's birthday it is. I wasn't expecting a lot, because we're all busy, but I was expecting a little bit of acknowledgment especially since this is a big birthday. But no one mentioned it except one of my sisters. She texted me a few weeks before and told me to keep an eye on the mail. I spent my birthday with my friends and it was the best, but I still cried because I wish my family had showed that they cared. What it means is that no matter how old you are, you want your family to notice you.
But the night before my birthday, when I really thought "tomorrow you're going to be 30," I was nervous. I've never been nervous to get older. But I have no idea what to expect from 30 and I have high expectations for the future. I'm in this weird in-between place where I know I'm in charge of what happens to me, in that I have the ability to pursue any opportunities I want and should be working towards a future of some kind, but I also believe from past experience that life is going to do whatever it wants and drag my dead lifeless body behind it. What it means is I really hope 30 is easier on me than some of my 20's were...
Because more than I was nervous, I was really excited about being 30. I want to run straight at it, like I do everything else, with lots of passion and energy, focus, and the sense that I now have a bit of life experience to bring with me.
Because I like the idea of being 30. Everyone says that your 20s are a time for discovery. They're the years that you experiment and try different things, make lots of mistakes, learn to pick yourself up, figure out who you are. But when I turned 20, I felt very confident in who I was. I didn't need to do any of that because I knew exactly what I wanted from life and immediately set off to become who I was going to be. And then I was 26 and I didn't want to be that person anymore. And I spent the last part of my 20s doing the discovery part. Trying new things, meeting new friends, screwing up really really big. Starting over. What it means is you can always start over. It's not too late.
And while I can't look back over my life right now and point to lots of external achievements, I did manage to get a Masters degree, a fact that I am very proud of even if it's a struggle to use it in the real world, but that's about it. I don't own a house, or an IRA (if I'm being super honest, I don't even really understand what that is). I don't own a business or a fancy car... I did own a car but those days are dead as of Thursday last week. I'm not married, I don't have kids, and I still don't know if I want any of that. What it means is you still have shit to figure out even as you hit ages where you thought you'd be more together.
But I think I've made significant strides in my humanity. I've developed a backbone and a big heart. I think I genuinely care about people in a way that isn't fake and believe me when I say I went from caring for everyone to caring for no one to figuring out how to really care for people and mean it. I'm tough on everyone and a lot of people think I'm mean, but I will go to bat for you if I think you're worth it, and some people are not worth it. (everyone's worth it, to someone, but that doesn't mean they're worth it to me) They're not worth the energy or the emotions because they haven't decided they are. That has nothing to do with me. And I get that now. It's very liberating. I've also worked on caring for myself, something I'm still not super great at, but I'm trying. I laugh, I try to stand up straight, I listen. I've never been one to automatically compare "victories"; I try to just live my life and not do what I think other people are doing, or even what I think I should be doing.
What it means is, I have no idea what I should be doing. Still. No idea. And I'm not always ok with that, but it's also not the worst thing ever. A few years ago I hated the fact that I had no plan. But I somehow fell blind into this new life, and it's incredible, and it's everything I need, and what if that hadn't happened because I had everything mapped out? I don't think I'll ever be so carefree that I can just wander through my life with no plans, but this little experience has been so fun. What if it happened again? Would that be so bad?
What it means is I would never go back, even if it were possible. Not even to try and avoid things or warn myself, or make it easier. I wish it had been easier, but I'd never do it. Because all of that led me here. I'm happy. I still go through very human emotions of emptiness and feel like things may be lacking, but overall I feel incredibly fulfilled by my life. I'm 30 and I've earned it.
In the days leading up to my birthday I was experiencing a lot of emotions, which is new and strange. I usually only feel excitement because I love birthdays, especially mine. But you know that saying, "when one thing goes well in your life everything else falls to shit?" I'm paraphrasing but you know what I'm talking about right? I am a living embodiment of that saying at this current moment in time. So many things in my life are going well right now. They're not perfect, nothing ever is, but I'm truly happy with my job, with my passion in Theatre, with my attempts to be a writer, with the life I live every day. But every year my family make plans to have dinner on whoever's birthday it is. I wasn't expecting a lot, because we're all busy, but I was expecting a little bit of acknowledgment especially since this is a big birthday. But no one mentioned it except one of my sisters. She texted me a few weeks before and told me to keep an eye on the mail. I spent my birthday with my friends and it was the best, but I still cried because I wish my family had showed that they cared. What it means is that no matter how old you are, you want your family to notice you.
But the night before my birthday, when I really thought "tomorrow you're going to be 30," I was nervous. I've never been nervous to get older. But I have no idea what to expect from 30 and I have high expectations for the future. I'm in this weird in-between place where I know I'm in charge of what happens to me, in that I have the ability to pursue any opportunities I want and should be working towards a future of some kind, but I also believe from past experience that life is going to do whatever it wants and drag my dead lifeless body behind it. What it means is I really hope 30 is easier on me than some of my 20's were...
Because more than I was nervous, I was really excited about being 30. I want to run straight at it, like I do everything else, with lots of passion and energy, focus, and the sense that I now have a bit of life experience to bring with me.
Because I like the idea of being 30. Everyone says that your 20s are a time for discovery. They're the years that you experiment and try different things, make lots of mistakes, learn to pick yourself up, figure out who you are. But when I turned 20, I felt very confident in who I was. I didn't need to do any of that because I knew exactly what I wanted from life and immediately set off to become who I was going to be. And then I was 26 and I didn't want to be that person anymore. And I spent the last part of my 20s doing the discovery part. Trying new things, meeting new friends, screwing up really really big. Starting over. What it means is you can always start over. It's not too late.
And while I can't look back over my life right now and point to lots of external achievements, I did manage to get a Masters degree, a fact that I am very proud of even if it's a struggle to use it in the real world, but that's about it. I don't own a house, or an IRA (if I'm being super honest, I don't even really understand what that is). I don't own a business or a fancy car... I did own a car but those days are dead as of Thursday last week. I'm not married, I don't have kids, and I still don't know if I want any of that. What it means is you still have shit to figure out even as you hit ages where you thought you'd be more together.
But I think I've made significant strides in my humanity. I've developed a backbone and a big heart. I think I genuinely care about people in a way that isn't fake and believe me when I say I went from caring for everyone to caring for no one to figuring out how to really care for people and mean it. I'm tough on everyone and a lot of people think I'm mean, but I will go to bat for you if I think you're worth it, and some people are not worth it. (everyone's worth it, to someone, but that doesn't mean they're worth it to me) They're not worth the energy or the emotions because they haven't decided they are. That has nothing to do with me. And I get that now. It's very liberating. I've also worked on caring for myself, something I'm still not super great at, but I'm trying. I laugh, I try to stand up straight, I listen. I've never been one to automatically compare "victories"; I try to just live my life and not do what I think other people are doing, or even what I think I should be doing.
What it means is, I have no idea what I should be doing. Still. No idea. And I'm not always ok with that, but it's also not the worst thing ever. A few years ago I hated the fact that I had no plan. But I somehow fell blind into this new life, and it's incredible, and it's everything I need, and what if that hadn't happened because I had everything mapped out? I don't think I'll ever be so carefree that I can just wander through my life with no plans, but this little experience has been so fun. What if it happened again? Would that be so bad?
What it means is I would never go back, even if it were possible. Not even to try and avoid things or warn myself, or make it easier. I wish it had been easier, but I'd never do it. Because all of that led me here. I'm happy. I still go through very human emotions of emptiness and feel like things may be lacking, but overall I feel incredibly fulfilled by my life. I'm 30 and I've earned it.
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