So...in approximately 5 weeks, I turn 30. No, I am not one of those women that is having a massive breakdown about the loss of my youth....not even close. But, it has caused me to ponder a few things. Me, over analyze? Nah....only every day. Over the past few months, I have been telling myself that I am thrilled to be turning 30 because that means I get to say 'see you the hell later' to year 29 and a few other choice years that happened in my 20s. I learned that your 20s are certainly about growing....and I experienced plenty of what some would call 'growing pains'....otherwise known as emotional disasters. Maybe I should share a few of the high and low lights of my 20s.
Turned 21. Yes, that was a big deal.
Finished at KSU and left Manhattan. Yes, I still miss it.
I lived through Nursing school.
I witnessed my first death. Unfortunately, it was the first of quite a few.
I saved someone's life....that happened more than once too.
I made some kick ass friends.
I bought a home.
I lived through grad school while working full time, taking call, and working a part time fun job.
I fell in love with the wrong person.
The wrong person broke my heart....more than once...because I allowed that to happen.
I met my amazing therapist.
I met Bryce....and Moxie.
I feel head over heels in love.
I got fired.
I worked for a really despicable company.
I got married.
My Mom died.
I cried for 3 solid months.
I sold my home.
I quit my career.
I found an amazing office/career.
I gained weight over the course of the last 7 years.
I lost weight over the course of the last 7 months.
I started running.
I tried out to be a National Spokewoman for the GO RED campaign (don't know the results yet).
I became a better person.
That, in a nutshell is a very abbreviated list, is the last 10ish years. It all looks kind of funny written out together. And, some of it explains why I have almost gone crazy more than once. I swear there have been times where checking into the 'loony' bin has looked like a very attractive option. Yet, I have survived.
So, as I look to my 30s, I wonder. I wonder what my first birthday without my Mom is going to be like. This will be first year that she has not called me at just after 7 am to wish me a Happy Birthday. It will be my first birthday as a wife. It will be my first birthday in a career that I can actually not work on my birthday if I so choose. It will be the first birthday that I will be decorating a grave in thanksgiving for my life. It will be the first birthday where I will not hear the story about 'how I almost died having you'. And, strangely enough, the queen of the 'birthday season' is not really sure how she wants to celebrate. Do I celebrate like I usually do...which is at every excuse I can think of? Or, do I just let it ride.
There is part of me that wants a huge celebration...for a variety of reasons. And, then, there is part of me that is not sure she wants to celebrate at all.