Journal, Mental Health

Thirty, Flirty, and Mostly Thriving

I turned 30 on Friday. 30 on the 30th. A golden birthday.

Up until a week ago, I felt totally at peace with this. Goodbye twenties! Hello official adulthood. These words leave me kind of nauseous. Do you remember when cartoon characters turned green when they were sick or grossed out? Yeah…that’s me every time I think about it.

Thirty. Bleck. It feels like a dirty word.

So, I put on my therapist glasses (read: put on normal glasses to see the computer screen because I am now old AF) got out my notepad (read: my laptop and therefore this blog post), sat myself on the couch (literally, I sat on my couch and then had to move because the Wi-Fi connection was shit) and asked myself the infuriating question all therapists ask: Why? Why, all of a sudden, is the thought of turning 30 making me anxious?

It’s not like my twenties were horrible. Sure, there were embarrassing moments caused by some regrettable fashion and makeup choices…but isn’t that the cross of all millennials to bear?

I made a list (IYKYK…I make a list for EVERYTHING) of the most memorable things in my twenties. They aren’t all good, but we don’t sugar coat life here, ok?

  • Moved to Arizona on my 20th birthday. Best decision I’ve ever made.
  • Met Doug. Just kidding…I met him when I was 18! But, we did start officially dating.
  • Big financial mistake #1. read. your. lease. agreement.
  • I adopted my dog, Sansa.
  • My in-laws took me with them to Disneyworld for a week.
  • We adopted a second fur baby, Gunner.
  • I learned what grief felt like when my cousin and my future father-in-law passed away within a month of each other.
  • I learned that I am not a fan of edibles. I still cry laughing when I retell this story.
  • I tried bouldering, which helped me work through my fear of falling.
  • My last living grandparent passed away. My dad drove me from Phoenix to Reno for the funeral. 0/10 do not recommend that drive.
  • Addison was born! And I quit Starbucks after seven years of indentured servitude to the Siren.
  • I graduated college at 26 and was given the opportunity to be a full-time mom. I paid a lot of money for a degree that I still haven’t used.
  • I got married on 8-18-2018 and didn’t realize the significance of the date until after the ceremony.
  • I had Jensen exactly nine months later.
  • Big financial mistakes #2 and #3: check. your. mail.
  • I bought my first pair of Lululemon leggings. Sorry financial responsibility, they are worth the hype.
  • 2020. I will just leave that one there without elaboration.
  • We planned our first family vacation to Newport Beach, panicked, and invited all the grandparents to help with the kids.
  • I worked hard to be the healthiest I’ve ever been and remember the first time I tried on clothes and had to get a smaller size than I thought.
  • We bought our first house and moved across the Valley.
  • I started this blog.
  • I started a new job.
  • We had to say goodbye to Gunner too soon.
  • My kid’s started pre-school.
  • We still haven’t taken a honeymoon…

So, why am I suddenly anxious to turn 30? Because I don’t know what they are going to be like. It can be chocked up to just the “fear of the unknown” cliché. That BS was useful when we were evolving and it kept us from eating potentially poisonous plants or venturing too far from home.

I have grown comfortable in my 20s. I feel like I know what to expect (which is ironic because of how I expected last year to go…). I think know what others expect of me. I think that I’ve achieved the appropriate level of “adult” proportionate to my life experience. They were full of so much growth and learning that I thought I would be in control of what lies ahead. I would be smart enough to not repeat the same financial mistakes. My relationship with my husband would be the case study in communication and how to keep the “fire.” I would be in an important job where I can use my fancy engineering degree and be compensated handsomely. I would have learned to like jogging. I thought my life would look a lot different when the time came to tackle another decade, but here I am: a work in progress.

TLDR: I feel like I didn’t do enough or reach a desired level of success.

With 30 locked in a staring contest with me, I have the compulsive need to make a list of goals to reach in the next ten years (it’s serious problem), but I am going to avoid that. It’s only going to lead me to find it as I’m approaching *gulp* forty and analyze all the ways I “failed” my thirties, just like I feel like I “failed” by twenties. Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch this time around, ok?

Cheers to a new decade of mistakes, learning, growing, and perfect memories with my kids! Here’s to ten more years of joy and laughter and tears. Follow me on Instagram @joyandotherthingsblog to see the memories. I have ten years to get it together and start posting again.

P.S. Dear Anxiety, if you are reading this, please take a seat. No need to stand up and follow me into my thirties. Thank yew.

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