It's been looming since last year about this time and it has only gotten worse as time goes on. Birthdays are a rough time for me. There is something about getting a year older that I have always found disconcerting. This birthday in particular is a big one.
I get scoffed at by my older coworkers for putting so much weight on turning 30. Part of me knows it's this irrational idea that I was suppose to accomplish something great by now. That by 30, I should have things all figured out. Over the past couple of weeks I've made the realization that this is just another example of me being too hard on myself. I'm trying to look at it this way:
If you started adulthood at 18, you've had 12 years to get your shit together. 12 years to finish school, start a career, build a life, buy a house, start a family, etc. I think of where I was 12 years ago and it feels like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. I've lived with 4 different people, been married, divorced, bought two houses, owned two dogs, moved away from my hometown, gone back to school twice, had three different jobs, rekindled my love of nature, become healthier physically and emotionally, and most of all I have learned to appreciate myself and my journey. I have earned every single one of the grey hairs growing out of my head and every one of those crinkles in my face that don't seem to smooth out anymore.
All I know for sure is 12 years isn't nearly enough time to have it all worked out. I cannot beat myself up for being where I am. I have crammed a whole lot of life into those 12 years and I am dedicated to making the next 10 years even better. So, in 11 days, when my birthday rolls around again, I'm going to smile and acknowledge that the destination may always be changing but my journey is exactly what it's suppose to be.
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