This is the year I turn the big 30. It got here so quickly. Many days I almost forget that I'm a adult. Believe it or not, the husband and two kids sometimes just aren't enough to remind me that somewhere along the way I grew up. I mean, I know I'm an adult now...but I don't always feel like it. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's denial.
I'll never forget my twenty-eighth birthday. I spent a good two hours bawling my eyes out on hubby's shoulder. Twenty-eight was getting way too close to thirty. I could no longer deny that I was in my upper twenties. I did not want to turn thirty. Maybe it was just getting older or maybe it was because that was also the same week I found out my best friend was moving. And we weren't. And that was the night that we decided to try to move to move for hubby to go to grad school. So, maybe it wasn't really the birthday, but at the time it felt like it was the birthday.
I wasn't sure what to expect emotionally on my twenty-ninth birthday. I thought I might cry again. But I didn't. I felt peace. I felt my age for the most part. I felt like I could finally embrace my age and stop walking around telling everyone I was still 25 - which was the age I had decided I would like to stay for as long as possible (I'm silly like that sometimes).
Over the past several months I've wondered why I feel so much more ready to embrace my age now. And the only conclusion I've come up with is that not only am I ready to embrace my age, but I am ready to embrace the real me. I no longer feel like I need to apologetic for certain aspects of "me", "we", and how we live our life. I feel ready to finally embrace the quote "It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not".
So bring it on 2014 and thirty. This simple life living, Waldorf homeschooling, with a touch of Unschooling, small apartment dwelling, made from scratch cooking, sewing, knitting, mama and wife is ready to really start living life, graciously, gracefully and unapologetically.
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