The Year of 30, Part I

Welp … I’ve been thirty for all of a week now and I feel as though I’m already failing. I don’t know what it is about turning thirty that is so monumental, but as I’ve looked over my last 30 years of life, I can’t help but wonder … what have I done with my life? Where has the time gone? I thought for sure my life would be so much different than how it actually is right now. Growing up, I had my life planned out. Graduate with my undergraduate degree at twenty-two, get my Masters by twenty-five, get married, buy a house, have two tiny people, and a brand new car all by age thirty. My reality is not quite that glamorous, and life certainly did not go according to plan. Now I find myself questioning everything. What is my next move? Is this it for me? Where am I headed in this thing called life? Nothing feels certain anymore.

As I have reflected these past few days, I realize what my problem is: at age thirty, I have lost my confidence. Somehow, somewhere along the way, without me noticing, my confidence in myself and my life slowly slipped away. And this lack of confidence has spread into every aspect of my life. I have found myself thinking that nothing I do is good enough, that maybe I am not enough. I have felt that I am no longer awesome at my job, that my child lacks listening skills due to my own failed parenting tactics, that I’ll never get this degree I’ve been pulling my hair out over, and that the trail of failed friendships/relationships I have clearly show I’m not that great of a person after all. Yikes! Definitely not a realization that I want after hitting such a milestone age. What happened to my life? More importantly … what happened to me?

I remember the last time I felt this way. I felt like I had taken a major step back in life and I wasn’t sure how to pick myself back up. I no longer had my own place. I wasn’t in school yet again. My best friend of 10+ years left me high and dry. My finances weren’t that great. And I was slapped with the reality that the guy I thought I was going to marry had sold me a dream. I was feeling pretty low. In fact, I felt like I was nothing. I was a failure. I didn’t even like what I saw when I looked in the mirror anymore. Who the hell was that staring back at me? I didn’t recognize her.

One day, I literally woke up and decided enough was enough. Deep down I knew I was capable of so much more, and I was determined to get back on top. So I did something about it. Just like that. The first thing I did was break myself down even further. I looked every flaw, every failure, every negative thought, every unattractive aspect of myself and my life, in the face. That’s right. I made myself feel even worse, but with the purpose of building myself back up again. I got to know myself quite well: the good, the bad, and the just down right ugh! Then came the hard part … learning to love the things I disliked about myself and finding ways to achieve the life I wanted. It was hard, and it took years, but it was worth it. At the end, no one could use any part of me against me. I was becoming at peace with who I was and where I was at in life.

I would get up every day and tell myself something I liked about me. I put a positive spin on things that I had viewed as negative parts of myself. I would say things like Yes, I’m a perfectionist, but that means I put my best foot forward in everything I do. I surrounded myself with positive quotes, uplifting books, and loving people. I forced myself to talk to strangers. I know that doesn’t sound like a big deal, but for a shy girl such as myself, it was terrifying at first. I was committed to pushing through my fear and making progress, though.

The funny thing about growing up and growing older is that you never quite stay the same. each new level of your life requires an updated version of yourself. I’m no different. I joined the thirty club, and life isn’t quite what I thought it would be. Still working to finish school. Nowhere near owning a house. And my car … well, she’s hanging in there.

When you lose your confidence, every loss feels that much bigger, every failure hurts that much more, and every mistake feels so much more detrimental. One thing I love about myself is that I am a fighter. But I realize that although I have the drive to succeed, my fear and negative self-thinking will always be a hindrance. Thirty is a new chapter for me, and one that I plan to write with positivism. In celebration of my thirtieth year of life, I have chosen thirty acts to commit to this year that will allow me to be my truest self. You only turn thirty once, and I refuse to give negativity a platform any longer. Look out age thirty … I am coming for you!

Check out my list of thirty acts for my thirtieth year in Part II!