I turn 30 in a little over a month.
In the greater scheme of things, this is not a particularly dramatic occurrence. 30 is, to be sure, a milestone birthday of sorts. It is to be celebrated, like all birthdays. But it’s not a fireworks and foie gras event here.
I am so different from who I was a mere 9 or 10 years ago. Astronomically, earth shatteringly, mind bendingly different. And that was the plan! I looked at 30 from 21 and thought I had it all figured out. A plan, a certainty of fate. I was going to be a whole new person! An adult. Have it together.
And here I am, a whole new person! An adult! But it is nothing like I imagined it. And many times I still feel like that wisp of a an alcoholic 21 year old girl.
And that’s fucking with my head.
I have been planning a road trip. To the ocean. All by myself.
I have no idea when it will happen. but it will happen in my 30th year.
And i will use the time to screw my head on. And become who I am supposed to be.