It was my 30th birthday on Sunday.
If you’ve ever watched 13 going on 30 then you’ll understand the fascination some people have with being 30 years old. When I was a little girl I also wanted to be a red lipstick wearing, cigarette smoking, independent woman of 30.
Well, I’m 30 now: I do wear red lipstick but I don’t smoke (I also don’t have a corner office with a view of Manahattan) so things don’t always work out the way you imagined.
However, when I turned 30 there was this little shift in my mind. I suddenly decided/realized that I am a grown-up/adult now. I have to make my own decisions, I don’t have to say yes if I want to say no (especially to those pesky telemarketers) , I don’t have to spend time with people that are no good for me. (I know there are people who realized this at 16 but it took me 30 years? to get here). I think it’s because I had this idea that 30 is the age where you grow up and start living your life the way you always wanted to.
Here’s to no excuses, no shame, no apologizing for who/what I am.
Here’s to making better choices and to owning up to my mistakes and actions.
Here’s to becoming the person (& woman) I always wanted to be.
Here’s to 30.
PS: My amazing & sweet sister woke me up on Sunday with 30 gifts on our dining room table, each assigned to a characteristic of mine according to her. Xxx
More birthday treats from my friends.