I'm nearing the end of my 30th year of life. In two short weeks, I'll turn 31 and no longer be considered a 30 year old, rather, a 30-something. If you can't tell, I hadn't been all too excited.
As I faced exiting my 20's last year, I was a debbie-downer because I was still single, out of shape, blah blah blah; and as I vented my concerns to friends, the response I kept hearing was unanimous.
"Being 30 has been the best so far."
The statement was far too abstract for my over-analytical mind to fully comprehend...until a few weeks ago when I was overcome with a mini-epiphany; being 30 actually was pretty kick ass. In the past 11 months, I've taken an awesome trip to Las Vegas, spent time doing things that charge my battery (like digging in my gardens), gone on some mini road trips, shared some hilarious moments with friends, was the shoulder for other friends to cry on when life felt rough, purchased a chicken coop (but have yet to get birds), leaned on other friends when I thought life felt rough, taught my son how to ice skate (among many other awesome memories we created), and just acted like me (without the stress or anxiety of "messing things up").
My fresh, care-free perspective also lead me to re-activate a membership with an online dating website. I've even met a man from the site, and to be honest, I'm currently smitten. I can't help but ask myself; are things working out because I've FINALLY decided to let go of the majority of my insecurities....or is life finally deciding it's high time to start working like a well-oiled machine? I suppose I'll never have a concrete answer, but dammit I'm bound and determined to enjoy the ride.