For the past six months, I’ve grappled with turning thirty. One moment I’m excited to be thirty, flirty, and thriving. Next, I’m wondering what the hell I’ve done with my life?
Why haven’t I found the perfect job?
Why don’t I have my dream body?
Why aren’t I married with two kids?
Then I sit down and realize that none of that is important.
When I sit back for a moment I see that I’m comparing myself to others, which is dangerous. I’m starting to realize the most important thing is being happy. Yes, I know that not everyday will be sunshine and rainbows (honestly, I don’t know whether that’s even desirable). Either way, I need to focus on me and what makes me happy. Who cares what everyone else thinks? As a people pleaser, I’m always preoccupied with how my next move will impact others. I always wonder “how is this going to look to everyone else?”
Who cares?
It’s my life. It’s my time to live to the fullest. It’s high time I be responsibly irresponsible.
So yeah, in my thirties. I’m focusing on only what makes me happy. Whatever brings me joy, I’m doing more of that stuff.
Vacations with friends and family.
Late nights reading.
Taking off work whenever I need.
Because guess what? Work will always be there (unfortunately).
I’m grateful I took some time off to unplug from work and social media, to spend time in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley to reflect on all of these feelings. I forgot how much I enjoyed just sitting and writing down every random thought.
Good talk, see you out there thirties.
