The Big 3-0. I spent pretty much most of last year answering what it felt like to be turn 30 and have a baby in the same year. I think there were silent sighs of relief that I actually “managed” to have a baby by 30. (Mind you it wasn’t at all a deadline for me- it just happened like that!) In all ways, it seemed to be a pretty milestone-ic year, as the saying goes.
But I missed my 20’s. Why wouldn’t I? After a decade spent getting to know myself and my way of doing things, it was all different again. Being twentywhatever was so liberating. You just dove headloing into whatever you wanted to. The mistakes, the breaks, the shakes, the soaring self confidence followed by the crushing self doubt, the peaking careers, the self discovery, the unfettered joy and the wallowing misery- no other decade in life can really give testament to having lived so totally to the brim. After so many years of this exciting pattern, being 30 (avec baby) was a bit like standing at the edge of a change, not knowing whether to step in toe first, testing the waters, or leap in headfirst with the running on the beach kinda joie the vivre (which is totally and completely twentysomething), the scariest part wbeing that I couldn’t tell which action was more me anymore.
We don’t give credit to our capacity to change. We want it to happen immediately, in thids day and age of insatnt everything. We don’t want to go through any process of acceptance and acclimatization and let the newness of things seep into us. We want to adapt NOW. Turning 31 last weekend, as I tell whoever asks me, was “seriously wonderful”. As if by magic, all the swirling dust from the constantly rearranging furniture in the attic of my head began to settle down and as I look around, I realize, I quite like this new setting.