There’s something about milestone birthdays that make most people cringe. Turning 50, people are worried about becoming seniors. Turning 40, they’re worried about losing their youth. Turning 30, they’re worried about how they stack up against the Joneses. At least I was from 26 to 29:
Ooooo gosh, why don’t I love my job as much as she does? Ooooo gosh, he’s heading to Europe again – I haven’t even been off of this continent, I must seem so unsophisticated. Ooooo gosh she’s prepping for a 10k run and I just gained 10 pounds. Ooooo gosh, they’re buying a house and I can only afford to rent. Ooooo gosh, she’s pregnant and I’m not even getting baby fever. Ooooo gosh, I’m going to another wedding alone.
I spent so much of my late 20s worrying about not fitting in. But I’ve had an internal shift over the past couple of months. I’ve realized that I’ve spent so much time worrying what every body else is doing that I’ve barely glanced at the road right in front of me – my road. When I stopped and looked at it, I looked at it through my eyes, not the grainy lens of societal expectations. And suddenly things looked rosy again.
It’s true. I’m not where I thought I’d be. I’m single, childless, renting an apartment in an amazing neighbourhood in Ottawa. I’m going to be an Aunt any day now. I have a beautiful family, true blue friends and the sweetest dog I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’m lucky. Sure there are things I’d like to change. But I don’t feel any of the desperation to mold myself into my should-be self any more. I’ve swapped thinking about what everybody else’s opinions and hobbies are, and started enjoying and enriching my own. I’ve found myself swapping the negative thoughts I harbored about my lifestyle, body and character for loving ones. And I’m swapping my need to control things for a curiosity in what life will bring.
I feel like I’m blossoming. Just in time for my 30s. Hip, hip hooray!