So, it happened, enough time passed that I have suddenly put my twenties behind me. I’ve had lots of questions, “Do you feel thirty?” “Do you feel old?” Yes to both. “Did you freak out?” No… or, at least, not yet. “Do you regret anything?” Not at all… and maybe that’s why it feels ok to put my twenties behind me. That was one tough chicka, my twenties gal, she really put herself through quite the roller coaster ride… but she never gave up. She REALLY got a lot of living done, where as the years before she hit her twenties felt like a snale’s pace of wasted time, every year after that it felt like her momentum built, and built, and built until she was sprinting. This is why when they ask me if I feel old (or tired) my answer is always yes. I even look back from time to time like a car accident victim who, by the power of a quarter of an inch, came out of it unscathed as opposed to decapitated. Tired? Yup. Old? Yup. Shell shocked? Absolutely!


It helps that everyone close to me already hit this mile marker and survived. I told Joe last night that this morning at 8am I would never be a twenty-something again. He informed me that he’s closer to forty then thirty now and I really had no more comments about growing out of my twenties after that. He will hit every mile marker a head of me when it comes to age and that is strangely comforting. Really there are few things that Joe hasn’t already proven to me that a human being can survive and thrive afterwards. “Is there anything you’re going to miss about your twenties?” No. That’s like asking if I have any regrets and that answer is a resounding NO. Though its not that I don’t have regrets its just the fact that I feel I have finally reached my happy place and if every regret I have got me here, then so be it.

Yes, my twenty-something chicka really did a lot in her few years she got on this planet. Both physical and spiritual, she came all the way around that damned mountain at a dead sprint to find herself exactly where she started, nothing changed and everything changed in every way. She wound up exactly one driveway down from where she started yet it took her thousands of miles to get there. But she always, somehow, knew that she would make it eventually even though she had no literal idea of where she was trying to get to. Of course it wasn’t a physical thing, it was a maturity thing, a happiness thing, my twenty-something gal knew that she had a lot of living to do before she could ever be happy. She knew she had a lot of falling down to do, a lot of mistakes to make, a lot of good and bad experiences to have, before she could ever be actually happy with her life.

If nothing else I at least really feel like I earned my big Three-Oh and there are almost no experiences in my twenties I would ever want to live again. Especially my early twenties… really there is only one experience I can think of I would love to live again and that is, of course, meeting my husband again. Getting to kiss him for the first time again. Getting proposed to by him again. Sometimes I think back and try to remember every single detail of every one of our first moments. But I wouldn’t trade those two people for the people we are today, we’re better now then ever, just older. I wouldn’t trade the new times to the comfortable place we are now, not for the world. Maybe that’s when you know you finally got somewhere good in your life when you wouldn’t trade this moment, even turning thirty, for any possible moment before it. I guess all I got now is the hope that maybe I can make better memories and cover up some of the rougher ones from my early twenties, the memories I know I need to grow out of, the memories that make me want to scrub my head out with bleach. But that all takes maturity and time. Experience has taught me that and it is in that experience that I am glad to turn thirty.