As I sit here on my blood-stained bed (from Azey’s teething, not from a period… ew, you guys) with my legs crossed, wearing a Dr. Jart sheet mask and blue-blocker glasses, I am inclined to reflect on how my life has unfolded up to this point.
I suppose this is natural with any birthday, but especially a milestone.
On Saturday, my sister gifted me with one of the most thoughtful presents I’ve received – a collection of photos of me (man, that sounds narcissistic), from childhood to present, put together into a YouTube video by the gracious dude that ghosted her once upon a time.
My niece, Ivory, sat on my lap and yelled ‘dinosaur’ when 4 year old me flashed on the screen wearing a super fashionable Barney costume. I smiled when a picture of me and my mom popped up, remembering one of our trips to Disneyland (that Eeyore was actually terrifying).
I laughed when middle school me arrived, with blue braces and white eyeliner. I cringed when I saw how much blush and eyebrow pencil I once wore (seriously, I’m questioning my friendships)… and I cried when Dustin’s smile illuminated my television.
I’m so fucking grateful for my memories.
Seriously, as I sit here now, my eyes are glistening with happiness.
I talked to a client today about growing up and balancing fun with our drive for success… “if I could go back to 17, I wouldn’t do a thing differently,” he said. This is coming from the guy with four, maybe five DUI’s.
Point is, I’m happy I didn’t make up my mind about what I wanted to do right away; that I went to the rodeo dance Thursday, Friday, and Saturday one year, that I went to Vegas for my friend’s 21st birthday with a fake ID and hoped for the best, that I started acting class in my late twenties, connecting with some of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.
Okay, wait… that’s not the point. The point is, everything’s unfolded as it’s supposed to. For me.
I’m not about to project that cliche bullshit onto you; for all I know if someone gave you the option to rewind (makes me want to watch CLICK), you’d change everything.
But again, for me, as I sit here, with this mask that is now crusted onto my face, I feel so, so content.
I know what I want to do with my life and I’m confident in my abilities to chase it without limiting myself.
I want to be a writer, which I couldn’t do to the extent I expect now if I’d just sat in my dorm room studying all hours of the night.
I want to collaborate with like-minded brands, which I wouldn’t be able to do if I hadn’t been in the corporate world talking to wealthy business men every day.
I want to interview people, which I certainly couldn’t do if I still held the same anxiety and insecurity I did in my early twenties.
I want to… okay, I’m not going to list out everything I want to do… we’d be here all day and I know everyone has more important things to do than read a blog about a girl turning 30. Like scroll through Barstool’s Instagram, water your plants, or heck, cut your nails might be higher on the list.
I recall a time in high school when I sat on our brown leather sofa waiting for an upperclassman to come pick me up. It was a Saturday night and we were supposed to hang out with a group, likely in the Sonic or Walmart parking lot… 7 o’clock came and went.
At 7:15, I texted and asked where she was… no response.
At 7:45, I went to pee and texted again… no response.
At 8:05, she still wasn’t there…
I felt shame – I felt like I wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, funny enough, or cool enough.
As it were, at school the following Monday, she simply said, “oops, sorry, we just got caught up…” and it took everything in me not to cry.
It triggered the abandonment I felt from my biological father (yeah, woah, I just went there) which took years and years and years to uncover. And actually, I’m still working on it with my new-found therapist (hallelujah).
I’ve swam through the depths of insecurity, addiction, anger, resentment, and ego. And while I know I don’t have it all figured out (seriously, I still fuck up my eyebrows every other day), I feel at ease with this knowing deep inside of me.
Watch out, world.