Today is my last day as a 29-year-old.
A few years back, I remember thinking that 30 wouldn’t scare me. It’s just a number, after all. But now that 30 is, you know, tomorrow… I’m having second thoughts.
You see, I had pretty high expectations.
By the time I hit the big 3-0, I was going to be a famous movie director (or at least a published novelist.) I’d be living in Los Angeles with a number of awards under my belt. My friends would be famous, and there’d be hardly a country left untraveled.
Of course, that great expectation isn’t exactly my current reality. Some might say it’s not even close.
I thought if it hadn’t happened by 30, it just wasn’t going to happen.
I can hear my naïve 20-year-old self telling my ancient 30-year-old future self… Haven’t written that book yet? Forget about it… Haven’t visited Ireland yet? Ain’t gonna happen… Haven’t won an Oscar yet? Dream on, grandma…
But as I look back on this decade, a little perspective helps me realize I did have some significant accomplishments and I certainly made wonderful memories.
I may not have a major book deal, but I do have a dream job where I write all day.
Sure, I haven’t traveled across the globe. But, some of my fondest memories involve travelling just 90 miles down the road.
Yeah, my friends aren’t famous. But, they’re beautiful human beings with hearts bigger than fame would allow.
I haven’t won a screenwriting award. But, I did take home a local Under 30 trophy, and I think that counts for something.
I’ve got two (crazy) beautiful sons. A (crazier) loving husband. And a drive that promises one thing:
30 is the new 20.
So what’s there to fear?
If you’re about to cross the great divide into a new decade (whether 30 or 100), join me in doing it with pride. With confidence. Without regret. Without shame.
Let’s dare to say it:
This is our year.