I do it, and I do it big. Here's to not forgetting about it.

I was partying so hard with my loved ones that I’m just now getting around to my birthday post, tee hee. 

A little more than two weeks ago, I walked into my classroom and saw that it had been decorated with banners. “Happy 30th Birthday!” they read. I have incredibly thoughtful colleagues, I thought to myself. Then I ripped everything down that had the “30” on it. I was pretty sure that it was the part of me that is a private person that had this reaction. I don’t think that 30 is old; rather, I just don’t think everyone needs to know personal things about me and I consider age to be personal. 

30. Whoa. I suppose my adulthood is pretty legit at this point. As the last of my close friends to turn 30, I’ve watched varied reactions, ranging from indifferent to negative. Meanwhile, at work I was told by a colleague that she had seen no one more happy to be 30 than I was. It’s true – I am happy! I love celebrating my birthday, as displayed by how I went dressed to school that day –  

 

Yeah, I definitely look my age. What I’m not sure I understand is why this is a problem, unless it’s just the “holy crap I’m actually gonna die someday” rearing its ugly head. I also feel more aches and pains than I did 10 years ago, or even 5 years ago. If there’s anything I am bummed about, it’s that I’ve had 30 years of opportunity to be good to my body and I squandered quite a bit of it. I got to be over 200 pounds – twice! I caused a car accident – thankfully, just once. Then the good stress, like starting my first job and finishing school. I’ve earned these stray grays and aches for sure. I don’t think it’s particularly fair to blame aging for any of this when it is simply the effects of long-term abuse. It’s like blaming the victim when she’s had enough and being upset that she needs therapy when you really should be seeing how you can help.

I am thankful to be 30. I am blessed that my body is still pretty healthy. I am well enough to say that I would take the wisdom that comes through surviving my twenties than the energy that it took to do the stupid stuff I did. Who knows, perhaps I will make fewer mistakes now only because I go to bed much earlier, hah! I get to continue doing all of the things I should have been doing in the first place – eating well, seeing the doctor regularly, hydrating properly, sleeping sufficiently. It’s not as though I suddenly need them now that I’m older. Finally I am wise enough to see how indispensable these things are. 

In an effort to be more open, I did tell a Kindergarten class that I am 30. I think it’s stupid that women try to hide their age and I regretted ripping down the 30s from my classroom and thus perpetuating that foolishness. There’s a lot of awesome ahead; God promised me in the book of Jeremiah. I’ve survived myself, thank the Lord! The kids’ reaction? “OMG you’re so old!” I chuckled. 10 is old to a 5 year old. Not doing it again though – must protect instructional time, after all! Note to self – only share if not teaching. ☺️

Thirty. Bring on the next decade!

  

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