30

Annnnnnnnnnnnnddddd then I turned 30. Truth be told, I'm feeling weird about it. There is no reasonable explanation and maybe it makes me vapid, but fuck it, I'm allowed to feel weird about it. When the hell did I get this old?

In what is surely a deeply-psychologically rooted slip, I inadvertently invited someone to my 21st birthday party the other day. Embarrassing, but I think telling of any feelings of weirdness. My 20s were amazing and I'm a little sad they will be over.

Living in the light of incredible blessings, I had so much fun, made amazing friends, laughed, cried, freaked out, traveled, hustled to launch my career and met and fell in love with the greatest guy in the world in my 20s. Of course I'm sad it's over. 

What's more, I don't really know how to be a woman in her 30s. Aren't we supposed to be more self-assured, better-dressed and more-established? I'm not sure I'm any of those things yet.

Here's the thing, I need to remind myself that I was just as freaked out at 21. Different challenges, but fear of the unknown is the same. So instead of wallowing in a pit of epic 20s-ending sadness, I'm going to put on a fabulous outfit (new DVF... #treatyoself), sit down to a stellar meal with my favorite guy, pour myself a quality drink and look forward, not back. Take that weird feelings!

The truth is, I know more goodness is to come. More clarity.  Less bullshit. A stronger foundation. Fewer worries about the opinions of others. Maybe a little less heavy-drinking on a Tuesday, but surely goodness. 

And as for my 21st birthday compared to 30th... let's just hope I don't barf in anyone's hair this time. Cheers!