This year I hit 29 years old. Actually next week to be more precise!
Excuse me while I freak the fuck out for 2 minutes..
Seriously, I have no idea why the age of 29 is scary. I guess because there are all the things in the world telling you that by 30 you should be married, have babies, have visited every country, be in your dream job at the top of the ladder and pretty much life should be pretty fucking sweet.
Well, my life is pretty sweet, but there’s definitely some boxes that haven’t been ticked. And to be honest, I don’t know how I feel about it.
Realistically my Mum by this age had three children. I can barely keep succulents alive.
My Dad was working his way up in the public service. I quit my public service job and changed career paths and am back near the bottom rung slowly clawing my way up.
Other friends have travelled to more countries than they have fingers and toes. I’ve been to two.
I consider it an accomplishment when I manage to get out of bed before 9am on a Saturday.
Is it wrong that while I’m not sure how I feel about it all, I know that I don’t feel sad. I don’t feel like I’ve missed out on anything or that I’m in some sort of race.
I’ve consciously made every decision to get to this point and I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time. My friendships are strong, my relationship is in such a good place, I love my day job and I love this blog.
I certainly didn’t expect to be here when I turned 29, but at the same time I’m pretty content.
Plus I still have a whole year until 30 😉