I am just over six months into my thirtieth year. And so far, so good. I feel like I am probably busier than I have ever been in my life, and even when I am overwhelmed, it feels good. I've written before about how my actual thirty looks nothing like how I thought my life would be. In all my imaginings, I was sure I would be married, have kids. I thought I would have hit all of the "adult landmarks" people talk about.
And outside of a house and a job, I haven't. I don't know if I ever will. But one thing that my thirties have brought me is peace with that. No matter what happens, I'm okay with it. I really and truly believe that this may very well be my best decade yet, come what may. I am more comfortable with who I am and who I am not than I have ever been in my life. For a girl who has been riddled with confidence problems her whole life (despite my attempts to pretend otherwise), that's kind of a big deal.
I look at the kids I teach, even my seniors, and can't help but smile because they just have no clue. They don't know how hard the next years will be, or how glorious. Because they will be both. Living is simply the sweetest, most frustrating, most amazing thing. And you can't see it until it's in the rear view. But it makes me anxious to see what's next for all of us.