Thursday, December 1, 2011

30 days to 40

I turn forty in thirty days (not counting today, anyway). I'm in the last days of my thirties. It's just so very strange. I'm looking at forty. It's the next exit.

I turned thirty in Big's arms in California. Sarah was two.

I am certain I thought about where I would be in ten years, because those are the kinds of things I think about. And I'm pretty sure I thought I would be remarried with more kids. But I'm also certain I am not at all disappointed in how my thirties actually played out.

My thirties have been fantastic. So much better than my twenties. The twenties are filled with uncertainty, and restlessness to move ahead, to move sideways, just to move, to figure it all out. The thirties? No. You just enjoy the ride. It's fun.

A lot of new friends entered my life in the last ten years, friends I think will be with me for the rest of the journey.

I am closing out my thirties in a significantly better place in my career than I began them. But I also have a totally different perspective on my career. I no longer want to be the golden girl at work. I just want to do my job and make enough money to enjoy my life outside of it.

I got to know myself in my thirties, for the first time, really.

I went back to school and got my MBA.

This blog was born in my thirties.

I raised my daughter from two to twelve. And I could not be more proud of the beautiful young woman she has grown into.

I dated some really great men, but didn't fine the One. Figured out I don't really believe in the One, but heading into forty I have a better understanding of what I want and need from a partner.

I look at the world very differently, ten years later. I am too jaded and cynical when it comes to love, and I suppose that is the one tragedy of my thirties. But I live in a state of almost bewildered gratitude for how delicious life is despite that.

My body is in better shape health-wise than it has ever been. I'm stronger, physically, than I was ten years ago. And incredibly comfortable and confident in my skin, even though I am still my own worst critic.

My thirties were very very good to me. I'm honestly kind of amused by who I am, heading into forty. But my thirties gave me the confidence to just own it. I am who I am. There are things I like about myself, and certainly things I don't, but I'm more forgiving of myself and of others at this stage in the game. Getting older really does rock.

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