Twenty-Nine: The End

In just FIVE days, I will enter a new decade of age.  My “carefree” 20’s will officially be over.  Although very, very little of my 20’s were actually carefree, I am going to miss that decade.  I kinda understand now why people hiding their age say they are 29.  I mean, 29 was not my greatest year, but it is definitely not as scary as 30 seems.  Personally, I think 22 was my best year of my 20’s.  I grew closer to my sistahs who will most likely be my best friends for life.  I was the first person in my immediate family to graduate from a university.  I got to live on the farm in my grandparents’ house with my faithful pal, Mowzer.  Sure, there were some strains at 22, but overall, it was a really great year and a great age.  And, overall, I enjoyed my 20’s, despite all the heart-wrenching situations and decisions.  I’m still not quite ready to let it all go yet.

Everyone says, “oh, 30 is just a number.  Don’t let it stress you out.”  That is so much easier said than done.  If it was really just a number, then people wouldn’t place so many expectations on it.  I am continuously feeling so much pressure to be more than I am and have more than I have just because of my age.  So much of that is out of my control.  So, so out of my control.  Trust me, I want all the things.  I really, really thought I would be married and have kids by now.  But I’m not, and guess what people, it’s not my fault!  Those things do not come easily to everyone.  And, there are a lot of people in the world who don’t actually want those things.  I just want people to stop judging me so quickly when they find out how old I am and where I work, which apparently translates to “what I’m doing with my life.”  My job is not my life.  If you want to actually know what I’m doing with my LIFE, you need to ask that question. 

So, yes, I am dreading 30.  I was trying to be positive, trying to embrace it, but it just seems too hard.  I’m dreading it because according to society, which several people in my life rely heavily upon, I’m behind.  I’m “not where I should be in life” by age 30.  Like….really?  Is there a map or something I was supposed to follow?  Ugh, it is all just so exhausting.  The thinking, the explaining.  I think I’m just going to tell people, when they give me that disapproving look, “get over it.  I don’t fit your status quo.  Sorry!”  But I really just want to avoid all those situations at all costs.  I’ve already had my fill.

So as far as I’m concerned, I’m just having another birthday.  You want to make it special?  Okay, I won’t stop you.  But please, please don’t emphasize that I’m turning 30.  It just doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.

Goodbye, Twenty-Nine.  I actually wish you didn’t have to go.