On Turning 30

I’m turning thirty in a couple of months. I distinctly remember saying once, when I was a super naive teenager who had never even had a serious boyfriend, that I hoped to get married at 23 and be done having kids at 30. Well, I missed the marriage deadline by a few years and I guess I have two months months to pop out any future kids that we would like to have? Wish me luck.

I don’t feel almost thirty. I recently drove past my childhood church and was suddenly ten again, riding in the backseat of our minivan on the way to Sunday school, white patent “church shoes” on my feet. Or whenever I drive down 1431 and become 16 again for a few delicious moments, now behind the wheel of that same minivan we used to take to church, on my way to Hilary’s house to watch cheesy movies and drink Sonic slushes.

But the reality is that I am almost thirty. Sometimes it terrifies me to see my forehead wrinkles (side note: people promised me my oily skin would prevent these??) or that, when a situation calls for an adult, I am that adult. It’s not necessarily that I’m scared of getting older, but more that I wonder if I’ve accomplished enough for an almost thirty-year-old. Or more importantly, I wonder if I’m the kind of person of which the 10- and 16-year-old mes would be proud.

Instead of embracing the whole “Thirty, Flirty and Thriving” mantra, I’m trying to take things as I’m learning to believe they should always be taken: one day at a time. That means greeting each one of the 55 days (I haven’t been counting, I just did the math for the sake of this post) I have left as a twenty-nine-year-old with joy and gratitude because no day is guaranteed. And to have lived (almost) thirty years, though admittedly they’ve looked a lot different than what I imagined, is amazing and something that is only possible because God gave them to me.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. lauraellalee says:

    Maybe we shouldn’t be who our 10 or 16 year old selves would’ve been proud of, Emily, because our understanding at that time was misled and immature. I’m not who my anorexic, legalistic 16 year old self would’ve been proud of in many ways, and that is good and right.

  2. Oh girl, I soooo resonate with this! I am kind of freaking out about turning 30. Haha! I feel like I should have this goal or that we shouldn’t be going backwards (you know owning a house and thinking we are settled to renting and now we have NO IDEA where we want to be)… but it is sooo true. One day at a time and embracing God’s mercies every morning :)! Love you sweet friend.

    1. Emily says:

      I know, 30 just used to sound so OLD and know that I’ve almost 30, I only feel like half of an adult 😉 Love you Ange!

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