On the verge of 30

My 20's are almost over. Like, momentarily.

I've thought a lot about what I would want to say about turning 30. I've recently spent many, many hours staring out of windows in cars or planes, caught inside my own head thinking about it. And yet I still haven't figured out exactly how I feel about all of this. 

I apologize in advance for any dramatics.

For most of my life, 30 sounded old. For most of my life, I expected to be married by now, maybe with some kids, a house, a job, maybe a dog (if my husband were agreeable to doing spring backyard poop clean up duty, and I guess I've always figured that's exactly the type of guy I deserve). I always thought that 30 year old's had everything sorted out, or at the very least, were firmly on the right path and quite a few steps ahead of their 20-something selves. I mean, when my mom was 30, I was 5.

This simply hasn't worked for me.

In my early 20’s I was figuring out what might work for me. I had to go to university so I found a program that sounded less horrible than most of the others and went with that. Then somewhere along the way I decided that I would go overseas, just to see if I could hack it, and to everyone’s surprise, I actually went. Then I did more school because I'm good at school. I learned that I had more questions than answers, and that it would probably always be that way.

When I was 28, I thought I had my sh*t together. I thought that I was finally really, really close to having everything that I wanted. But that wasn't meant to be. My world went into a tailspin that left me sobbing on the bathroom floor, choking on my broken heart. When I got up, I moved across the country. And then drove back. And then packed up and moved quite literally to the other side of the world. (Some girls just cut their hair).

I've gotten as far as landing a proper job, but even that is only about 15 days old and comes with a high risk of contracting malaria. I sometimes worry that I am going to end up an old spinster with lots of great stories and even more cats, waiting for my friend's children to move away and their husbands to die so that they can join me on the porch. At least I won't die alone - cats are loyal. No wait, that's dogs.

I spent the better part of my first 28 years believing that I could have it all. Then I spent quite a lot of the 29th concerned that this might not be true and whinging* bitterly at how unfair it was that I wasn't better prepared for that possibility. I claim a lot of responsibility for making my own life complicated, but it surely can't be all my fault. I certainly chose my career path, and worked really hard to get here, but I don't know whose brilliant idea it was to set me on this journey in the first place. I never asked to be so unconventional. I have to believe that there is some sort of master plan for me and that eventually I will pass Go, I will collect $200 and I will buy a house (maybe even put it on Park Avenue). I just can't yet see how all the pieces fit together in my puzzle, and somehow turning 30 feels like the ticking of the timer is getting louder and the pressure is on to sort it all out. Whatever good that will do.

I envy the stability in the lives of so many of my friends. And I know that at least some of the time, they envy what I've got going on.

Not so long ago I was asked by a (now former) partner why I couldn't just get a "normal job" so that we could get married, stay in one place and have a house and kids. I'll admit, there are many moments of any day where that sounds like the best thing to do, but it just doesn't feel right. Yet. (And it's not just because he certainly wasn't The One).

I suppose that a milestone birthday, by its very nature, lends itself to reflection on what you thought would be. But I refuse to spend the last minutes of my 20s thinking about what I haven't done, and what I don't have. Instead I must revert to a lifelong friend who regularly reminds me to focus on all the stuff that I do have and have done.

I'm grateful to my 20's for being a time when I could skip uni to watch Trading Spaces marathons with my housemates and still graduate with honors. For introducing me to some of the great loves of my life, including Africa. For making me a strong enough woman to get up off the floor even when it seems unfathomable that life could ever again be as colourful or sweet, and to pack up and start over regardless of whether I'm running away from one thing or towards something else.

In my 20's I've been places most people will never see. I've earned a Masters. I've walked with lions.

I've learned that you can make a family anywhere you go and that they simply add to the richness of the one you left behind.  I've learned that if push comes to shove I can kill a spider, and that it's better that I don't make any phone calls after about my 5th gin and tonic.

I've always known that I'm lucky to have such amazing friends and family, and my circle of support has grown exponentially in my 20s. Geographically disbursed, on different paths in life, and sometimes borderline headcases, these are the people who (often with the help of skype, facebook or gchat) help me get through my day. I'm not a religious person, but to say I am blessed is truly the only way for this to be described. Whether you held me on the day I was born, stood in line beside me on the first day of grade 1, or somehow fell into step alongside me at some other point in the countless days that followed, I'm glad that you did.

Most of my friends are in their 30s now. Or turning 30. Some have more sh*t sorted out than others. Why the self inflicted pressure? Polepole as they say in Swahili. Slowly, slowly.

(Maybe if I say it out loud often enough, I'll start to believe it)

I bid my 20's farewell and say thank you for what can best be described as an adventure. (I'd say a roller coaster but they make me puke, and most of my 20's weren't nearly that bad). Thank you to everyone who has held my hand, helped carry some of my baggage and came along for the ride - it's been a truly epic journey.

To be continued...

There's no hiding from it now: I'm officially 30 in New Zealand, Australia and most of Asia. As the international date line creeps slowly towards me, I can't escape.

Since there's no turning back, here's what I have to say to you 30:

BRING IT.