Thursday, April 28, 2005

I remember my mother's 30th birthday. Someone gave her a shirt that said "30 and Still Frisky". I remember that she was kind of sad during that birthday and that it was a really big deal but I didn't understand why.

Now I do. On Sunday I will turn 30 myself.

In my younger years I always thought that women who worried about their age were incredibly vain and stupid. I have always said that I couldn't wait until I was 30. I guess I have always felt like I would have everything together by then... I wouldn't worry what people thought of me, I would fully understand why I am who I am and why I do what I do. I would just relax, I think I imagined. Like the work of figuring out who I was would be over.

But this birthday is kicking my ass. I know that my life is going fine...I finally figured out what I want to do with my career (education, if you can believe that!) and where I want to live (running back home to beautiful Portland, OR) and what is important to me (being near family-- didn't see that one coming). All of this is good. Why am I so depressed?

Thirty is a state of mind, I know. You are as old as you feel, right? Well, I feel too young to feel this old. I feel too unfinished for 30. I'm not who I hoped I'd be in a lot of ways. I'm getting wrinkles. I am too impulsive. I don't think things through. I don't save money. I don't eat breakfast. I never live up to my "potential". Etc.

I am hoping that this malaise is just birthday induced and that I will snap out of it. I'll keep you posted.