I have dreaded this day for most of the year.
In January, the thought of turning 30 brought me out in a cold sweat. I didn’t feel ready to be a “grown up” age. Leaving my 20s behind seemed like a huge deal. It was the decade of university, partying, finding a career, travelling, meeting new friends.
The truth is, my 20s were also the decade of marriage and becoming a mum – not something that completely identifies who I am, but a pretty bloody big part of it.
It turns out turning 30 isn’t that bad. Actually, it’s pretty good. I awoke to an almighty tantrum from my 3 year old, which lasted a good half an hour. But, once she was safely deposited at pre-school for the morning, I did this:
When you rarely get time to have a shower in peace – let alone a bath – a good long soak in the tub is a huge treat. Especially if it involves a good book and some pampering products.
Living in Devon means my parents could join me for the day as they are now just an hour away. So I ditched work for the day and we went for lunch with Frog. Then we did this:
I came home to a huge homemade birthday cake (the bonus of Mum being retired being that she now has time to make me cake – win). And then I revelled in feeling loved as I opened all my cards and presents, including a little bag of goodies from a blogging friend – not something I’d have had 5 years ago!
The one thing that has really stood out today, though, has been the amount of messages, phone calls, Tweets and Facebook love that has come my way. It’s made me realise just how many brilliant people I’ve met during the 20s decade – and earlier.
I might have a 3 at the beginning of my age now, but I also have a lovely set of mates, a pretty special family and a love of decent wine that I lacked in my 20s.
Hello 30. Nice to meet you. I think we’ll get on OK.