Thirty-nine: An Ode to my Thirties

I have officially embarked on the last year of my thirties. To be honest, I’m not quite sure how I feel about it. I haven’t thought that much about turning 40. I don’t have any particularly bad feelings about it, but I also can’t say that I’m as excited about it as I was when I turned 30.

Maybe I’m just feeling a bit nostalgic because I’ve really loved my thirties. I made a lot of mistakes in my twenties, and I feel like I made up for it in my thirties. I really grew up and figured out who I am and who I want to be. I got my MBA, bought my first house and reconnected with my faith.

I grew in my career over the past decade and I took a lot of risks. I walked away from Corporate America to follow my heart and go to work for the church…and I went back into the corporate world and moved across the country to pursue fun new opportunities. I figured out what I’m good at and what I enjoy and, for the most part, how to combine those to find work that is fun and satisfying.

The majority of my thirties I was single and trying to figure out what kind of man I wanted to have a lifelong partnership with. I cried more than a few tears as my heart ached to find someone who would add more love and laughter and adventure to my life. I went on a lot of blind dates and spent a lot of time with my girlfriends swapping stories about dating—the good, the bad and the ugly.

Then, of course, I found him. I enjoyed a whirlwind romance and the amazing process of becoming even more of myself just by being with him. I fell in love, got married and started yet a new chapter in NorCal. I learned a lot about wine and, well, sure enjoyed my fair share of it. I found unspeakable joy in getting pregnant and I discovered renewed strength in surviving a miscarriage.

So here I am with 362 more days to see what else might happen in this decade that has already seen so much. I’m sure that my forties will have their own list of adventures and struggles and events that further shape and define this little life of mine, and a year from now I’ll probably be ready to charge ahead.

Until then, though, I’m going enjoy these last months and do my best to squeeze every ounce out of them. (And not just the wine.)

Bring it, thirty-nine—I can’t wait to see what you have in store.