Saturday, December 11, 2010

Even if thirty is over the hill, I'm still not about to put it in neutral.

     I recently turned 30.  

     I know that to much of our society, that particular multiple of ten is supposed to bring marked changes to one's life... and I kind of hope it does.  I'm not going to suddenly become serious about relationships, like some bad romance; I've been serious (and yet not) about relationships as long as I've been having them.  And I'm not going to start having children, or feeling my biological clock ticking, only to either meet "the right guy" who makes me want to have children, or come to the realization that my life is already complete and that I can adopt, anyway.  My life is not your movie-typical story.  Neither are the lives of most of the people I know, either.  In fact, I find myself wondering where those standards come from, and if they still apply.  If they ever really did.

     I remember my father turning thirty.  It's odd enough for me to think of him having a (nearly) six-year old child at the same age I am now, but life was much different then than it was just a few years later.  My mother made him a cake, with black frosting and ghost decorations... it said "over the hill" and was a joke about how old he was getting.  Looking back, I wish they could have seen then how their lives were still just beginning.  Within two years, they would be separated.  My mother would be struggling with her prescription medication addiction, and my father would be burdened with taking care of an overly intelligent (but depressed and obstinate) daughter, alone, who he never really wanted in the first place.  He did the best he could, until my stepmother came along... but that's another story altogether.  

     The first half of my twenties were heavily influenced by trying to get away from my younger years... trying to ignore their existence, and trying to be my own person.  The second half involved a lot of self-discovery, acknowledgment of those younger years, and managing to incorporate the two into a whole person who is much more comfortable with herself.  My thirties are beginning with a base of liking who I am, while recognizing that there are always things that can use improvement, and that it doesn't make me a bad person.  All of the things I've heretofore written about are things which I have become more comfortable with in myself over the past several years.  Gone are the days of feeling guilty for who I am. 

     I will still love the things I love now.  I have made friendships which will likely last the rest of my life, no matter where we end up.  I will continue to love road trips, exploring the world around me, and learning all I can.  I will continue to love love itself.  Armed with this knowledge, I face this next decade with hope and determination, not mourning for the fleeting youth and hardship I leave behind.  I really do hope that things change, for the better, and I think they will.  This year, I had the first real birthday party since my childhood.  It was a fantastic beginning to the years to come.

     Onward, to the future we go!

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please keep things polite. Any hateful or rude comments may be deleted.