thirty

Today, when I woke up, I was thirty. And most of me is relieved to tell you the truth. I’ve been acting thirty since I was about twenty-three. And for a long, long time I let that bother me. I let myself dwell on things that I was missing out on. I tried to hide things about myself like driving a minivan or not owning a pair of heels. Only recently, after the move to the burbs, the 2nd baby, maybe even the blogging support, have I learned to embrace my true self. That maybe what I thought the twenties were supposed to be was all just in my head. That my life did not just accidentally happen this way; that this is the life that I choose, the life that I wanted all along.
So maybe that’s the difference between the twenties and the thirties. Maybe the thirties bring confidence, security, comfort, even a little pride. Because honestly, the thought of all of that spontaneity right now just makes me tired.