I’ve been 30 for one day. I’ve been celebrating turning 30 since last Friday. I can get used to birthday celebrations that last longer then 24 hours. I have to say: I love being 30. I thinks its ridiculous (and sexist) to declare women “old” at 30 and to hold up age 25 as the pinnacle of youth and life. I am living proof that life only proven to get better after 25. There is not enough money in the world to convince me to do those years over again. Everything gets better with age…except cupcakes. They’re best served fresh…like babies! But I digress. These last three years leading up to my 30th birthday have been like slowly opening the lid on my potential. I think I’m still in the process of shaking the contents out, but at least I no longer hold on to old perceptions and aspirations that do nothing to serve me. I’m letting go of safety and security and taking baby steps towards passion and joy, with the hopes of finding a balance. Life is much better now that I’ve been shaking things up (retiring from teaching and job security) and doing what scares me (trusting the unknown and Sean) and opening up my mind to the idea of taking it all one day, one breath at a time (thank you, yoga). Thank you friends and family. Thank you universe and God.
image credit: California 30