Whatever your personal feelings are on the matter, I think we can all agree that 2020 has been a strange year. In just seven months, we’ve dealt with, among other things, wildfires, murder hornets, and a global pandemic. It’s been a lot already, and the universe doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.
Another thing that happened in 2020 that’s personal to me: I turned thirty! Don’t ask me how I feel about it, because I don’t know. It’s odd to have a different digit beginning my age, but I don’t feel any different.
Except, I do.
The me I want to be and the me I am are not the same person. I got sick of it. I don’t want to reach the end of my life a bitter, depressed woman with a lifetime of regrets. So, I’ve changed a lot in my life. I’m going back to school. I’m pursuing a new career. I’ve started a novel, which I’m very excited about. I’m trying to change my eating habits, and I’ve started an exercise regimen.
I’ve made a lot of decisions that will, hopefully, lead to a happier, healthier me. I deserve it, my husband deserves it, and my children deserve it.
So many times you hear that your twenties are meant to be the prime of your life. A lot of good things happened in my twenties, but the decade was also fraught with uncertainty. I waffled between what I wanted and what I thought was feasible, and, unfortunately, I chose to settle. Subsequently, I hit a bad depressive episode and flunked out of college.
Now, I’m older and, I think, a little wiser. At least, I’m less willing to settle.
All-in-all, thirty is feeling pretty good!