accept turning 30

And it’s okay. I stayed up til midnight last night, so I could see what I felt like the minute I turned 30, and all I felt was tiredness—so I went to bed. I’m not anxious or feeling old or unaccomplished or anything like that. Instead, I feel blessed that so many people have remembered my birthday and sent me wishes today. It makes me feel pretty darn good about myself and the person I’ve become. So if this is what 30 is going to look like for me, then everything will be just fine.

I might have accepted my impending birthday. Numerous people have assured me that being thirty is pretty darn good. And I spent some time thinking about all of the things that I would accomplish in my thirties—finishing my PhD most notably. So, all in all I think I’ve got a lot to look forward to.

Turning 30 is not the end of the world, and loads of people have told me that your thirties are way better than your twenties (which I devoutly hope is true because my twenties really sucked for the most part). So maybe turning 30 can be an affirmation of the pretty good life I’ve been able to build for myself during the last two years.

Now I just need to make myself really really believe that. I’ve got two weeks left.

My 30th birthday is less than a month away. I’ve come to accept it in tiny stages. So though it doesn’t freak me out as much as it did six months ago, I still sometimes feel like some force will slap me on the head with oldness on the day of my thirtieth birthday.

So I turned 30 over six months ago. I think I’ve come to accept it.

I spent the day cycling down a Cuban ‘Highway’, getting lost in the rythm of continuuous forward motion.

In less than six months time I’ll be turning 30. The whole concept freaks me out.