I am turning 30 tomorrow.
I am going bonkers here trying to find a way to delay the inevitable. I have no idea why, but I am scared to death of being 30. I’m scared to leave my 20s. I feel like I’m still young if I’m in my 20s, whereas being 30 is synonymous with being old balls.
Okay, maybe not old balls.
Still, when looking back on my 20s, I should feel mostly glad they’re almost over. They were kind of rough. At least the first half was. The best word I can describe my 20s as would probably be bittersweet. Lots of good memories, but also some very heartbreaking ones.
I was in college and changed majors like three times. I had no idea what I was good at or what I wanted to do with my life. And then I wanted to quit college for awhile so I could figure out what I wanted to do and not waste money (stupid student loans). But thank goodness my mom was tough as crap and wouldn’t let me.
I hated college. I have never felt so alone in my entire life than when I was on UNO’s (relatively) giant campus. I was a tiny blip in this giant world. I didn’t know anyone (which was weird after coming from a somewhat small town where, even if I didn’t know the person, they knew who I was). I was too shy to join clubs and make friends (boy do I regret that now) until the last year and a half when I joined the student newspaper. If I have any friends from college days, it’s because of that newspaper.
Also, I had some bad, bad, bad relationships. But who doesn’t during that time in life? I dated liars and cheaters. I had my heart broken so many times. It sucked. I let myself become so wrapped up in those relationships that when they ended (and they always ended really bad), I didn’t know who I was anymore. (Add that to the list of regrets.)
If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t change anything, though. But I would give myself one piece of advice: Never let go of who you are. I think if I would’ve realized the importance of that, I would’ve been way better off. And stronger. And able to realize those guys that broke my heart weren’t worthy of it anyway…and shrug them off easier.
Even after I graduated college and got my first job…things didn’t seem to get any easier. I got laid off from my first big girl job, which meant I had to give up my amazing apartment and move in with my brother. I broke up with an awful guy and had a weird summer of seeing old flames and meeting a few new ones. That was a fun summer of being single.
But then I met the man who I would later marry. It wasn’t an easy road to get to where we are…but damn if he isn’t the greatest man I have ever met. He must’ve seen something in me because he married me and together we have the most wonderful almost-10-month-old baby boy ever.
So from 25 on…my 20s were pretty darn good.
And I get it, life will always be full of ups and downs. Again, I don’t know why I’m lamenting the loss of my 20s. Could be because – and this is extremely morose of me – but the older I get, the older my loved ones get. And death scares me.
Okay, enough of that.
I know great things are ahead of me (at least I pray there are). Most everyone tells me being in their 30s has been the greatest. And I believe that. I have my health. I have my husband and my baby. I own a house. I’m going to have more children. I have a great job. I have my family and my friends.
The future scares the crap out of me, but it also intrigues me. I’m just going to tread the murky waters of my 30s the best I can by focusing on all the good in my life…and all the fun ahead of me…
Here we go.