On October 30, I turned 30. I wrote a piece for Autostraddle about this milestone where I talk about suicide and self-harm, and the freedom I feel in being alone. You can read it at the link above. Now that I’ve been 30 for a couple of days, I’m ruminating on joy. I am incredibly grateful and lucky to have made it to this age. I didn’t think I would be here, in the days leading up to my birthday I was afraid to leave the house lest something fall from the sky and crush me.
I made it, I’m here, I’m 30 years old. My twenties were a fraught time for me, filled with mental health crises and bad relationships, but maybe it’s that way for everyone. I didn’t start feeling like myself until I was 28, and then a pandemic came to ruin the progress I had made and the community I’d built. We are still in a pandemic, but reaching 30 feels like an emergence from something else. It feels revelatory and freeing.
People have asked me if I feel any different, and to be honest, I do. I feel more grounded in myself and my body, feel more ready to tackle issues as they come up. I feel like I know what I want out of my life now, and that I have the means and the tools to get there. Since my move, I’ve been checking out the dating scene and not falling victim to old habits: obsessing and settling. When I used to hit it off with a person, I’d obsess over every little detail, real or imagined. When I didn’t like a person, I often settled for them because I thought who am I to ask for more?
I also spent half of my twenties drinking, and, god willing, I’ll have 5 years sober in February. Half a decade out of addiction feels so monumental yet small at the same time. Being sober at 30 is such a gift, I couldn’t imagine a better life for myself.
I spent my 30th with my brother and his family. We watched movies, ate cupcakes and great food, and then I got home to my new apartment and slept for hours. I felt so full of love for myself and for my chosen family. When I was ten and struggling with suicidal thoughts, I couldn’t have imagined that I would be grateful to be alive as an adult. As much as being an adult is filled with shitty realities, bad people, and less-than-exciting responsibilities, I am so happy to be here. In my 30s, starting a new life in a new city, and becoming the woman I needed to see growing up.
For my birthday, I bought myself a beautiful bouquet of purple flowers. A little nod and a gift for my child self that loved dressing head to toe in purple. I’m excited for whatever secrets and surprises 30 has for me. Cheers to another year!