Over the hill.
Exactly one month from today, I will turn 30.
Fuck.
Yeah, I said it. (Sorry Jesus)
I am having a real existential crisis about it.
I always pictured turning 30, surrounded by my friends and family.
Maybe a surprise party, or a vacation.
Something big and dramatic and bold.
You know, very me.
Well, 30 is definitely dramatic, but looking a lot differently than I imagined.
And when I tell people I’m bummed about my birthday, I get a lot of eye rolling and “well just wait until you’re my age!” Or “seriously? It’s only 30.” Or “oh stop it.”
Well, this is not the season I was expecting for my 30th year.
And I am allowed to mourn that.
I am allowed to grieve the loss of my youth, especially a youth spent in a failed marriage.
But, I am also allowed to be excited for what’s next.
Awkwardly yours,
Meg
Fuck.
Yeah, I said it. (Sorry Jesus)
I am having a real existential crisis about it.
I always pictured turning 30, surrounded by my friends and family.
Maybe a surprise party, or a vacation.
Something big and dramatic and bold.
You know, very me.
Well, 30 is definitely dramatic, but looking a lot differently than I imagined.
And when I tell people I’m bummed about my birthday, I get a lot of eye rolling and “well just wait until you’re my age!” Or “seriously? It’s only 30.” Or “oh stop it.”
Well, this is not the season I was expecting for my 30th year.
And I am allowed to mourn that.
I am allowed to grieve the loss of my youth, especially a youth spent in a failed marriage.
But, I am also allowed to be excited for what’s next.
Awkwardly yours,
Meg
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