Fourteen days remain, until I am into a new decade. A new world. A new me?
Growing up, I remember how people would dread their thirties. People hated giving their real age, when we’d ask the teachers at school or someone in public. I never understood why… Then I turned twenty seven. From twenty seven to twenty nine, I would think about how I was approaching my thirties so unhappy. I felt like I understood those people I’d ask as a child. It made sense, you approached thirty, and hated your life.
Chelsie and I would talk about it. “We’re getting so old”, and we’d laugh and move on to the next conversation about homeowner’s insurance or hemorrhoids, ya know, grown up things. Then, this spring happened. We started talking about approaching our thirties differently, as we were sipping margaritas on Miami Beach. It didn’t seem like such a bad thing anymore. We talked about our growth, the changes we’d made, and how we were excited to take the “next decade on”.
I feel like I’m in the worst shape ever. I put thousands of dollars down on a brand new car, and have essentially no money to my name. My credit score went down, and I cried about it. Sometimes, I think I have IBS. I’ve been fighting for my boyfriend to be my boyfriend for a while now. I don’t work a conventional job. My current children have four paws, and my first human children will be “step”.
And I’ve never been happier.
Sometimes I’ll be in a situation where I meet someone new. They ask me about myself, because it’s weird to be a personal assistant and work weird hours, and then I go into my speech. I love to tell people about how I’m approaching thirty, divorced, no kids, no property, debt, and how my favorite hobby is to spend money because it means I’m living. Baby Boomers are rolling in their recliners, right now. I’m the least “30”, thirty year old that exists. I followed approximately ZERO expectations of the bank account, marriage, family, and all the things we were told we should do. I love it. My twenties were full of learning, and full of living.
My twenties were a lot of those “living” moments. I went through intense mental health issues, got divorced, lived in four different states, lived in seven different homes, went to hundreds of concerts, met tons of celebrities, worked in radio, figured out my intuition, talked to rocks, lost 100 pounds, gained 50 back, traveled a ton, fell in love, learned a whole lot about the world & learned the most about myself. Here’s the thing- this is the first time I’m going to hit a birthday and I’m ready.
I’m ready for my year of thirty to be filled with everything my twenties taught me, but more. I’m ready to see more of the world, learn more things, go on more adventures, and fall deeper in love with my life every single day. My twenties were wild, but I’m in my prime.