I turned 30 early this month. I always thought it wouldn’t be so bad. I always thought that I would be classy and age gracefully…
I thought wrong.
First, I dyed my hair this wild shade of red:
Well, actually, that’s all I did. I look in the mirror and feel strongly that I’m missing several tattoos, but I know my mother would weep, and I don’t think I could bear to see her sorrow. I guess I don’t really know how to stage a proper “turning thirty crisis”, but a crisis it is. It’s been weeks, but every time I think about it, it just totally bums me out. It’s not like I was a big fan of my 20’s… or anyone’s 20’s for that matter. But I am now a 30 year old stay-at-home mom. Ugh. A thirty year old mom. An overweight, 30 year old, Pinterest mom. UGH! It’s not that 30 is OLD by any stretch of the imagination. It’s just that I’ve grown up to be a stereotype.
I’ve always thought I was just way too cool for this. Maybe I’m not.
I think what disappoints me is that I never really found my “groove”. What’s my style? What’s my aesthetic? Maybe that’s why I found myself trying so many new things (minimalism, veganism, traveling, vintage style…) at 29. Heck, this month I’ve been contemplating how I could try life as a hip do-gooder. I could buy some of those TOMS shoes, sip fair trade coffee, learn a bunch of human trafficking statistics, and impress all my friends with how much I care… Except for how flaunting compassion totally grosses me out, those kids are so COOL! This could be my chance to reinvent myself!
But, by thirty, I think maybe you’re supposed to kind of be over being cool. You know… aging gracefully, which, like I said, I’m finding a bit trickier than I’d imagined. I’m sure there are deep truths about self perception and worth demonstrated here. But for now, the kids are in bed so I’m going to go research DIY temporary tattoos on Pinterest.