The funniest thing about my writing habits as I get older is that I have less to say now than I did when I was 22. How sad is that? Everything that came out of my mouth at 22 was garbage, and now that my thoughts have some substance to them, I’m too lazy to express them. I think I have more drafts saved on this blog than actual posts. So, tonight I thought I’d just let myself type and see what comes out.
One of my crew mates said to me last night, “Oh yeah, you turned the big 3-0 this year, didn’t you?” Without flinching, I excitedly answered, “YES!” I seem to be the only woman I know who was looking forward to my 30s. My 20s were fun, but your 20s are also when you make an ass out of yourself while you figure out your boundaries. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve shaken off that stage in my life.
But 30 just seems like a brand new chance to make another memorable decade to look back on. Every woman I’ve seen who’s in her 30s and fabulous just looks so relaxed and so in tune with herself, and that’s where I want to be. I’m not having kids, and I never wanted any, so I don’t experience that ticking clock syndrome that most women would. Most women who are 30, unmarried and without child seem to scramble around in desperation, willing relationships and getting needy in a plea to make them happen. And then you look like the 30-something woman on the prowl for a husband. That’s never been the life I wanted, and am I glad for that.
I have this cool job that keeps getting better and better. I had a goal to get my logistics ticket before I was 30, and that miraculously happened. I feel like I’ve been put in the express lane at work, and although it’s fast-paced and kind of crazy, I couldn’t be happier about the direction in my life. I have so much support from people, and sometimes it comes from the most unexpected places. I feel so grateful.
I have a partner who gives me the freedom to run when I feel like I’m standing still, who supports me in every decision I make and is the best man anyone could ask for. Actually, let’s talk about him for a moment.
He keeps me centered when my temper starts spinning into outer space and he’s patient like nobody I’ve ever met. Sometimes I wonder how he deals with me, because if I was someone else I don’t think I could deal with me on those days. But he does, and has for over 3 years, and he’s always got the biggest, most forgiving heart when I probably don’t deserve it.
There are times when I get these angry flare-ups and all I want to do is scream and yell, and cry, and I have put that poor man through hell and made him feel completely helpless when I’ve woken up with a chip on my shoulder. And yet he’ll hug me tight, wipe the tears away from my eyes, kiss my forehead and tell me everything is going to be ok. I really need to start giving him more credit for that, because his patience isn’t always a flaw. Sometimes it’s a gift that I’m thankful for. I have to be, or else he would have walked a long time ago.
He keeps me grounded, even on our bad days.
So my 30s are off to a great start. I’m not looking forward to the grey hairs that will probably start showing up in the next couple years, or to the wrinkles that will start to develop, but I do believe in aging gracefully and I can only hope that the rest of my journey through life will be just that – graceful.
Perhaps one of the points I’m trying to make is not to let age scare you. If we live an average of 75 years, then why should only 2 decades be valuable and the rest dreaded? There’s so much more to life than being a silly teenager or a lesson-learning twenty-something. Embrace it.