30th Birthday reflection

I surprised myself today. Much of last year was spent in fear, or at least a silent denial, of the fact that I was in the last year of my 20s. I didn’t want to acknowledge it and I just wanted to leave on an overseas trip so no one could remind me. What a sook! Gosh, even writing that just now makes me wonder what got my knickers all in a knot because today was one of the better days I’ve ever had. I must have scored some kind of awesome present, you say. No! Not at all. I didn’t get anything. In fact, mum forgot to wish me a happy birthday and I had to work all day.

But you know what? There was something liberating about hitting this new decade. I have felt all day like I was granted a membership to a secret, elite club of people who get to not give a shit about the superficial and who can say “f**k you” to those who want to hold onto their 20s by feeding into the same negative attitudes and insecurities that cloud that decade. There is a silently acknowledged camaraderie between people in their 30s, the same way I presume there to be between people in the following decades. An understanding of another’s present situations and values that require much less verbal communication.

So basically, I feel f*kn fantastic, thanks for asking (when I’ve had a red wine, a bit of inner bogan comes out. Not going to apologise)!

Lesson of the day: Don’t be scared of those milestone bdays. Use them as springboards and fire yourself into the new era with aplomb. In short: get over it, “she’ll be right!”.

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Becoming one of THOSE people…

You know the ones I’m talking about. The perpetually cheerful. The driven. The respected. The morning people. The ones who have all their stuff done by brunch (and to them, brunch is the actual time you have for a meal between breakfast and lunch, not just the time it happens to be when you get up and eat breakfast, provided you actually remembered to buy your breakfast foodstuffs of choice). The ones who seem to have mastered the delicate balancing act of career, health & fitness, family and social life, while still finding the time to bake personalised cupcakes (probably in heels) for everyone’s birthdays, scrapbook their photos and volunteer at the local shelter for abandoned 3 legged puppies.

The only rational explanation is they must not sleep, right? Well, their smiles and fresh complexions suggest otherwise. So what IS this witchcraft? Is this magic available to anyone (I know I’ve seen and read about people transforming their lives, but to be completely honest, I only know of maybe 2 people who have actually succeeded in doing so)? Can I be one of these people? How long does it actually take? Will it get easier or will I keel over and have a heart attack from the stress?

Sourced from http://www.allthingsclipart.com/wonder.woman.02.jpg
Me, in the not too distant future

Well move over….er, Bridget Jones…….2015 is the year I will attempt to answer these questions, and any others that may arise. 2015 also happens to be the year I turn 30, so what better time to make some changes in my life than the beginning of my 4th decade (yikes) on this planet.

So apparently by the time you turn 30 you’re supposed to have all this stuff sorted out. You were supposed to have decided on your career in your early 20s and amassed enough money to convince a bank to loan you more, so that you can purchase your very own house. In this house you will live with the guy (or girl) you’ve been dating for the last 5 (or more) years (happily), and start planning to raise a brood of you-clones (since it seems to have a child in your 20s these days is ‘too young’), who will grow up next to your friends’ children in happy suburbia. Alternatively, you’ve chosen not to have kids and you’re living the dream, travelling the world, living inner city, making promotion after promotion, spending your disposable income on designer paraphernalia.

And you’ve completed one of the above scenarios with minimal cellulite and perky breasts!

Well okay, so most people only play at keeping up appearances and no one is perfect, we all know that (well except for maybe Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson and Salma Hayek), but my life up until now has been so far removed from the fantasy, that the impending 30s has prompted me to start this war against myself. That sounds a bit harsh, you say? Well, without getting too David Copperfield-y, I grew up a bit of a social outcast. My teachers expressed concern that I did not have many friends and I was very withdrawn. But oh! I was great academically!… Add to that I was always on the chubby side and you get a young girl with no self confidence who didn’t know the value of hard work.

Fast forward to adulthood, past the depression, the failed 2 year marriage and numerous other mistakes (for another day), and we get to the present age of 29. 10 days short of my 30th birthday, where I am currently an overweight, single (separated) mother to a 5 year old boy, living with my parents, in my 3rd year (of which I’m kinda proud) of my 3rd attempt at tertiary education (only counting bachelor’s degrees here, not including the certificates I started and lost interest in). So, somewhat motivated by the fear that I’ll always be unsatisfied with my life (and to be this strong, inspiring woman that I’ve always felt I could be), I have started to make a list of goals, both short term and long term, as well as daily steps towards accomplishing them. I have also decided to start this blog to document my journey because it’s so outside of my comfort zone, that it’s got to be a good thing, right? I also want to know – and to show you, dear reader – if it can be done. Can a night owl whose recent bedtimes has not been a minute before 4am, become a morning person? So, introducing to you, test subject #1, yours truly.

Image credit: http://www.allthingsclipart.com/wonder.woman.02.jpg