Birthdays get a bad rap, especially from women; and I suppose I understand the whole reasoning behind it. I mean, what are you left with when you take away the unwelcome gray hairs that begin to creep into the picture, the laugh lines, the sudden surrender to gravity, and that first time you’re called “ma’am” instead of “miss.” Sure, there’s cake. But the cake turns into muffins these days.
Muffin tops, to be exact. And, no, you don’t want the recipe.
So, yeah, I get it. But for some reason, I don’t feel it. Maybe I’m supposed to, or maybe it won’t hit me until another significant birthday comes around. But I turn 30 in exactly a week, and I’m kind of — well– excited about it. After all, I’ve heard that 30 is the new 20… which means that I’m finally going to be out of my teenage years.
AND it comes with this really great adjective. Flirty Thirty. Not that I needed an excuse to flirt with my husband, but — hey — I’ll take all the reasons I can get. He is pretty cute after all.
I don’t know, I just have high hopes and big dreams for the ‘thirty-years’. Granted, I don’t have it all figured out, which would be a disappointment to my naïve six-year-old self. But still, I’ve come a long way. Age in itself doesn’t bring maturity, but experiences — especially when one takes the time to learn and grow from them — tends to foster wisdom. And wisdom brings a sense of calm.. and a realization that you shouldn’t sweat the small stuff anymore than you can change the big stuff by worrying.
You just kind of learn to go with the flow and to trust God with the rest. And really, that’s the best place to be.
I do know that I’m still quite young in the grand scheme of things, and not only because I haven’t found my first gray hair yet. 😉 But turning 30 is definitely a stepping stone into the rest of my life. These next ten years, before I reach another decade, are standing before me as a blank slate, just waiting for endless possibilities to be recorded there. Will I actually write that novel I always don’t seem to have time to work on? Will I have a new job? Will I finally get to test-drive a MiniCooper? Will I be a mom?
One thing I do know for sure, I plan on making each and every day count! So that’s why I celebrate my birthdays, and I truly hope that I never stop. I hope that when I do get that first gray hair, that I laugh at it. That I laugh at the wrinkles, and that I don’t let a slowing metabolism stop me from eating a piece of cake. And I hope that I don’t focus on the changes as being negative or spend my time scrutinizing myself in a mirror, but that I instead focus on what really matters. Because for the record, my Memere had gray hair, wrinkled skin, and obviously loved her share of home cooking; but she was truly one of the most beautiful woman I have ever met. That is what I want to remember and embrace.
Life is an adventure, and each stage of life certainly comes with its own set of challenges. But life doesn’t have to stop being beautiful… and birthdays shouldn’t stop being celebrated.
Yep, turning 30 doesn’t scare me one teeny-tiny bit. 🙂
— pics taken at my 29th birthday get-together with the family last year—