It’s only been three days and I’m already in love. You might say I rushed into things–but trust me–I didn’t expect it to happen this way. Fate has a subtle way of making connections and when you know, you know.
And what I know is that I love being 30. LOVE it.
I can’t remember the last time a birthday was so special and a new age really felt different. So far, it feels like I have super powers.
For years, older friends and colleagues have told me that turning 30 would be great; that it marks an exciting decade of independence and confidence. Naturally, I assumed they all were lying to distract me from the fact that I was more than halfway to AARP status. No age has garnered this much hype since 21. But now that I’ve made it, I get it. Seriously, this is rad.
I spent a full week celebrating with the people I love and ended up with sore legs (–> dance party in the living room), an achingly full belly (–> delicious restaurants and Jim’s cooking) and such a happy heart (–> oodles of blessings and wonderful people in my life).