In a week from today, it is my birthday. My 30th birthday. I haven’t hid the fact that I’m turning 30 this year. On the contrary, I’ve willingly volunteered this information whether it was relevant or not. The fact that I kept doing that made me wonder why. Was it an effort to accept this birthday and convince myself that turning 30 isn’t so bad? Was I trying to get through to myself?
This birthday has made me reflect on my 20’s as I leave this decade behind. At 20, I was living in Montreal and pursuing a degree in Theatre, smoking a lot of pot, and enjoying the independence of not living at home. Over the next decade I’d finish that degree, travel throughout Asia, eastern Europe, the US, and Canada, work and live in Calgary, move to Winnipeg (and recently, London), meet the love of my life, make some of the best friends I have, get Oscar, get a Master’s degree and embark on a second one. It wasn’t always good though. My grandmother died. I went through bouts of depression. My heart was broken. I got into a bad car accident. I broke my foot. I cried from sadness and stress way too many times to count.
Looking back, my 20’s were great and awful and hilarious and wonderful. They were about figuring out who I am. And now that I know, my 30’s are going to be about becoming that person. Bring it on, I say.