Thursday, September 5, 2013
30 Is The New 20
Or is it? What does that mean really? Turning 30 has given me the chance to reflect on this statement, and it's made me realize that 30 is not the new 20. I certainly don't want to be a 20 year old again. After I turned 25, the age thing became a down hill slope for me. Ugh, I was closer to 30 than I was 20, and time seemed to speed up as I raced towards 30. Turning 28 and approaching 29 left me less than thrilled. What had I really done in life? But then 29 came and things started to look up. 30 was not going to be knock knock knocking on heaven's door. 30 was going to be awesome. It was at age 29 that I decided I was not going to limp sluggishly into the following year. When I turned 29 it looked like that's exactly what would happen, but I became determined not to let that happen. Let's look back at age 20 for me. I had my first child young, I was only 19. He was born 5 months before I turned 20. He only lived for 2 months and 12 days, so at the ripe old age of 19, I became a mother and experienced the loss of my child, a loss that would ruin a woman of any age. For a long time, it did ruin me. 20 was not a good year for me. I spent that year trying to drown my sorrows in whatever I could. I lived hard and partied harder. I didn't go into mourning, I was in full on self destruct mode. I had absolutely no direction and did nothing with my life that year, and didn't do much in the following year either. I straightened up and got on track a bit more when I got pregnant with my 2nd child, whom I gave birth to just before turning 22, but even after that it took me a good amount of time for my head to settle on my shoulders. It wasn't until I turned 23 and met my now husband that I realized my life was going nowhere, and that wasn't fair to me or my son. I went back to school, worked and graduated before our family grew again and we moved halfway across the country. After I turned 29, I made the choice to take more control in my life. Things were great, I had an amazing husband, 3 wonderful, healthy children, we had a nice home, lived in a nice area, what more could I want? Well for starters, to be my own person. I'd spent the previous few years playing wife and mother, and I felt like nothing more than an extension of my family. I wanted to do something big, something for me. Because I wasn't paying enough attention to me, while I was absolutely happy, I wasn't completely satisfied. This might sound selfish, but it's the truth. I didn't take enough care of myself. This reflected in the way I looked.