The day before my actual 30th Birthday I was a
mess. I was a pile of insecurities and to be honest I’m still that blubbering
pile. I don’t know what it was but being 30 seemed like the worst idea my body
ever had. Before my weekend trip to Vegas to celebrate this monumental turning
of the clock, I would have spit venom and cynical mayhem over my 30th
birthday. I work 2 dead end jobs. I have no career. I gave up on writing aka my
dream. I have no children. No House. No immediate big picture plan to get me to
a better place. I’ve got an amazing husband who is also struggling and some
dogs. I’m in debt, can’t pay my bills and struggle with medical conditions to
lose weight. I fail, daily, to see the beauty in myself or my self worth. This
was my year in review prior to Friday.
However, over the weekend I had friends who flew in from all
over the country to celebrate with me and to re-assure me. Our lives are our
own. There are twists and turns, backtracking and leaps forward. It’s not
always linear. It’s not always point a to point b. I’ve got to accept that just
because at 30 I’m not where I wanted my life to be that it doesn’t mean it will
ALWAYS be that way.
I
have noticed little changes in myself and I like it. I find my energy cannot even be used for hate, envy or jealousy. I don't talk about anyone or anything. If I see a stunning woman walking down the street I don't try to pick apart little things to bring her down instead I find myself mentally complimenting her and smiling. Where do all these cute shoes live and how can I afford them?
I’m making no grand announcement. No, I’m not going to go back to school and change my life. No, I’m not going to re-dedicate myself to my writing. I’m struggling. I don’t see an end in sight. My days are accounted for down to the minute. My weeks are exactly the same and right now having that routine, that normalcy, that pinpoint knowledge that I know exactly what is coming and when, it’s comforting. Right now I don’t have to think and it has allowed me some calm. I honestly can't even find the time to care about anything outside of my bubble. GMOs, Religion, Politics. Don't care. I budget and buy what I can afford. I eat what my body allows me. I understand that I could be a "better" person if I made my own laundry detergent, dog food, clothes, etc. If I spent more time researching the foods I should buy instead of just buying what is available and affordable. I'm doing everything to the best of my abilities and I'm okay with my life and what I eat. How I shop and what I spend my money on does not concern you. Spending time with my friends reminded me that I am loved and that I am good no matter what.
I expected a lot out of myself by the time I hit 30. The only person who seems to
be disappointed in me, is me.
