30 On Purpose

Now it is true that I just had a birthday not that long ago, and it is true that I only turned 28 at said birthday. It is also true, that although my mathematical skill is hardly worth mentioning in any conversation, I do know that 28 is not old at all (although I'm not sure what is old...guess it depends who you ask. My 7 year old think I'm ancient) and that it is also quite a number of seconds, minutes, hours and days before I will get to say I am 30 years old.

BUT...never the less, I am so excited to be 30 that when I became 28 (which somehow seems so much closer to 30 than 27 ever did) I couldn't help but give myself permission to start thinking (on a regular basis) about turning 30. And not just thinking, because the thinking morphed into envisioning, which gave way to dreaming, which was eventually overrun by the absurd notion that being a 30 year old woman was no doubt going to be the best era of my life, bringing respect, honour and making dreams come true. Now with the gift of hindsight I can clearly see that given the choice, I almost always lean towards the disaster of naivete, but this latest little tangent from reality, I must say, has been full of delight (indeed delightful)!

You see, in my sugary little dreamland of rainbows and delight, a 30 year old woman is the recipient of a great many gifts that a woman under 30 simply cannot receive. A 30 year old mother, for example, conjures images of a stable, loving woman who knows how to nurture her children and has some wisdom to offer on the ever illusive art of parenthood. A 30 year old wife is one who has worked the kinks, accepted her faults and sees the disasters coming in time to at least flinch in anticipation, all the while falling deeper in love. A 30 year old woman knows how to cut her hair (she's already committed all the hair related crimes in her teens and twenties and has now settled comfortably knowing that a pixie cut just doesn't work for everyone). A 30 year old woman walks with an air of confidence and realisation that life is in full swing and the time for waiting and sitting idly on the sideline is over. And most importantly (here is the heart of the heart of my daydream) a 30 year old woman requires and receives respect from those around her, young and old. Her efforts are no longer seen as the passionate yearnings of a young and somewhat flighty girl, but as researched and well earned talent. Suddenly, upon turning 30, a woman has a voice that is heard just that little bit more than the 29 year old sitting next to her. She could write a book, she could speak to the masses, she could enter into politics, she could be taken seriously!

The loveliest part of my walk on the clouds is that as I am not yet 30 there is nothing to quell my excitement or prove my naivete ridiculous. I can, quite happily, spend the next two years turning 30 on purpose! Looking forward to all things great, preparing for the well respected life of a 30 year old woman, knowing that the best is yet to come! And though the not so welcome visitor of reality does come a-knocking from time to time and I know that although silver lined there are still clouds, I can in all my youthful passion, pour the glass of my life half full and look forward with purpose and dignity to being 30 and all the wonderful things that come with it.

Decision: Disasters aren't disasters until they get here. No point looking for them.