Looking back on 30

Seriously, I never, ever, ever thought I’d be sitting here, writing to you at 30. I thought by then I’d have been an entirely different person. How weirdly, then, that I am intensely thankful that I am not.

Usually, I’d pick apart a year of my life now. I’d mull it over, glance at the hurts, grin at the joys and grimace at the moments I did not enjoy. This year, though, I’m giving myself a break. I think I deserve that.

Yes, I have felt like an orphan at times. Yes, I have often wondered, in these exact words: “what on earth am I doing? why? how? is this a plan or a defense strategy?”. Yes, I have totally loved and danced through some wonderful days of sunshine. And yes, I have known great love. I have known amazing, steadfast friends who are more family than acquaintance.

So I look back on 30, and I think…you lucky chick, you. You very lucky chick.

I am thankful for a year where I felt both solid and adrift, all at the same time. I am thankful for some marvellous anchors with which I am held down during the great winds of life. I am thankful for love of all kinds. I am thankful for my little person, who’s more like me every day, and I hope that turns out to be a good thing. I wish her strength and perserverance. I wish her hope and happiness, through all of it. I have felt more of a mother than I ever have before. I think that has a lot to do with no longer having my own and another lot to do with being more confident in my own parenting.

I think I see things more clearly now than I ever have before. I’m not saying I’m some bastion of clarity. Heh. That’s just not possible if you’re me. But I will admit to being able to think more clearly than I ever have, at times. And that it’s a relief to me, in many ways.

Perhaps the greatest thing that I feel is a sense of consistency, both external and internal. I doubt myself less, and I am able to trust more.

Lucky, lucky me. Intensely thankful, me.

Happy Birthday Me.