A woman’s age is one of her best-kept secrets. It’s a powerful weapon with the ability to be either an ally or an enemy. Revealing this most sacred information can have irreversible effects. It can clothe a woman in wisdom and knowledge just as easily as it can strip her of beauty and youth. It may impress upon people the idea that she doesn’t know what she wants or take her beliefs and dreams for folly.
Stuffing a woman into a box of characteristics based on her age is an archaic adage as simple-minded and ridiculous as the notion currently impeding my celebratory spirit.
I turned 27 yesterday, which means I’m a year closer to my dreaded 30th. I guess every birthday has put me a little closer to it, but now I can feel it. Like air coated thick with the call of springtime showers, I can smell it, and it’s too close.
In three years time, 30 years of age will be asking me what I’ve done with my life for the past three decades.
My fear is that I’ll have no answer. At least none that will live up to the pedestal I’ve placed this stupid number on. I’ve no idea where I developed this ridiculous notion that I have to have all my ish together by 30. I honestly don’t think that we as human beings ever get our crap together completely, but there’s no harm in trying.
Or is there?
I started preparing for 30 after I turned 25. And to an extent, it’s fine that I’m working toward stabilizing myself for the future, but when does it become too much? Because- and I don’t mean to be morbid- but the length of my future could be tomorrow. I’ve had an incredible life so far, not without its highs and lows of course, but a pretty decent life. Yet there’s a lot that I skip out on because I choose to work so that I can be debt free by 30. I’d be really pissed if something happened to me before then and I missed out on that trip to Venice or the experience of skydiving. They key is to balance my responsibilities while still allowing myself to enjoy life.
My birthday advice to myself would be to take it easy. Enjoy what you have in the moments you have it because nothing is forever. Do for others. Keep smiling. Continue saving. Have patience. Trust God. Enjoy life. Be 27. 30 will come, and when it does, you’ll be ready. And that doesn’t necessarily mean everything will turn out as you imagine. It simply means that it will be okay nonetheless.