I’m thirty-one today. Which means I’m officially settling into my early thirties, trying the phrase on for size.
I have loved being thirty, and I’ve been spending a little time thinking about where I am right now and what I’d like thirty-one to look like. (This post was partly inspired by Lindsey’s gorgeous musings on turning forty.)
Thirty-one is thinking hard, all the time, about the big questions: marriage, money, career, children, where to live, how to live. Thirty-one is realizing that some doors are closed to me, or at least swinging shut – while others are perhaps more open than I think they are.
Thirty-one is buying clothes for the body I have, not the body I used to have, the body I wish I had, or the body that appears in most of today’s fashion catalogs.
Thirty-one is learning to listen to my body and my soul when they cry out (or even whisper) that they need rest.
Thirty-one is learning not to apologize for what I like and the way I am, while remembering to be gracious, polite and adaptable.
Thirty-one is taking a hard look at my budget with my husband, stepping up our student loan payments and our retirement contributions, and also continuing to make travel a priority.
Thirty-one is realizing, in a thousand small ways, that my generation and I are the grown-ups now.
Thirty-one is wearing many different hats: writer, wife, sister, daughter, editor, friend, aunt, resident bookworm. Thirty-one is slowly realizing the impossibility of being all things to all people.
Thirty-one is learning, again and again, to pay attention and soak in the present moment, in all its messy loveliness.
Thirty-one is learning to live with life’s spaciousness and its uncertainty, its jagged edges and its breathtaking beauty.
Thirty-one (as seen in many of the sentences above) is still learning. And loving every minute of it.