Everyone reacts to birthdays in a different way. Some refuse to celebrate the reminder that they aren't getting any younger. Others like to shout it from the rooftops no matter the age. Some spiral into a deep depression when they hit thirty while others wait until the big four-zero before plummeting into a mid-life crisis.
My good friend turned 30 this weekend and I was reminded of my thirtieth birthday (spoiler alert - break out the violins).
I love birthdays. I think because I always had to share mine with my sister, I've always wanted people to make a big deal out of mine. Nobody has yet, but I figure I've got 50 good years left in me.
On my 16th birthday, I knew not to get my hopes up for a new car, a used car, or even access to a car. But, I was still excited because it was a turning point, validating my legality in being able to drive a car. But, there was no big family party, no mentions really, of my birthday at all. My brother and sister were away at college and I honestly think my parents forgot.
For my 21st birthday, I had to work. By the time I got home, my two college roommates were already hammered and didn't feel like going out. I had to hold their hair back while they puked everything out. I waited three weeks before celebrating with some friends in Kansas City - and got hammered off of one tequila shot (it was a REALLY big shot).
For my 30th birthday, I was hoping for a big shebang. Nothing. There was no surprise party. No bells and whistles. In fact, my husband and I invited a lot of people to meet us at a local bar to celebrate the milestone. Long in short - and very pathetic - nobody showed up.
As the years pass, excitement for my birthday dwindles. I've learned to keep my expectations low and not hold out for anything spectacular. Like clockwork, I'll receive a magazine subscription in the mail from my parents, calls from the siblings and cards from friends. As long as I have my husband and kiddos to 'celebrate' with, all is good on the birthday front.
Too all of those who think their lives are over at 30, I have to say, you're life is just beginning. The thirties have brought such happiness in my life. I'm married. I own a home. I have a great job. I have two canine companions. I have true friends. I have grown up and have learned to appreciate life.
You're only as young as you act and feel. Never 'act your age'. I may be in my thirties...but, I don't necessarily act it.
Wisdom comes with age. What I thought was the end of the world at the age of 16 wouldn't even be a blip on my radar today. Through the years I have learned how to love, who my true friends are and I have learned who I truly am and who I strive to be.
Sure, it's unfair that men get better looking as they get older and women get...saggier. But, I believe that beauty comes from within. I may have more wrinkles. I may have more gray hairs. I may have more sags. And I may have more desire for cat naps in the middle of the day. But, I wouldn't change a thing because every wrinkle, every scar, every gray hair has a story behind it.
So, to my wonderful friend who just turned the big 3-0 --- Congratulations! You have entered the best time of your life. A time when ever-present gray hairs, wrinkles, sagginess and exhaustion is a thing to celebrate not fear!
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