I made it to another decade. Give thanks. It's a blessing, and yet I feel like now is the time to level-up and adult-up hard now that I'm 30. I look to the sky, to my ancestors, to Creator for guidance.
I'm a kid at heart!
How am I gonna pull this off?
And who are the ominous "they" with their societal expectations of me now that I've been breathing on this planet and took thirty trips around the sun? What does this say about my small business? What does this say about my writing? What does this say about how I interact with people...or my returning Tetris addiction?
It's self-imposed pressure but pressure nonetheless. I feel like all my clothes are things that a twenty-something wears, or a teenager wears, or a really small senior citizen wears. And it's not just the perception of looking young that I'm insecure about its the perception of acting young.
I'm so over my twenties very much excited to join the Dirty Thirties but there's a lingering feeling that I'm not mature enough. This all came up on me so suddenly, although I've been calling myself thirty since I was 28.
Some musing I suppose. It's weird writing about age because it's just a number.
And I'm not "freaking out" about aging. Hell, my first gray hair was celebratory in my household (ask my sister) because it means I made it! As someone who lives with chronic illness and has visited too many hospitals, trust me when I say, thirty is a milestone and it's survival.
But I can still be a kid, right?
I need validation, darn it! (how childish)