Turning the Terrible Thirties to Extraordinary

Recently, I celebrated Melanie’s 30th birthday. She was embracing 30 and even hosted her own birthday soire with 100+ of her closest friends. I applaud Melanie for her positive attitude on this new decade. As I left her birthday dinner, I began to reflect on my 30′s. Unlike Melanie, I’m working on the latter part of the decade and there are less days rather than more days of being a thirty-something.

When I turned 30, I spent the day at the Elizabeth Arden spa on 5th Avenue in NYC. I treated myself to a $500+ day and thought that at 30 I deserved the pampering. After all, this was the first day of that pivotal decade when what I dreamt of as a kid would become a reality. As a little girl, teenager and even as a college co-ed, the 30′s were that decade where you were all grown-up. You had a house with a pool in the backyard, a station wagon to tote kids, a husband/wife to go with you to parties, the movies, dinner–all the things that to a kid make adults look like adults.

People grow up, get  married and have kids every day. It doesn’t look so hard.  Heck, between the ages of 30 and 33, there were so  many events to attend the calendar resembled that of a lone physician practicing in Manhattan. Bridal showers, baby showers, rehearsal dinners, weddings, bachelorette/bachelor parties, the money I poured into these events could’ve bought me a second home in Costa Rica.

It was a time of “everyone’s doing it.” Everyone that is, but me. “Your time will come,” played in my head like a bad Shaina Twain song. At 30, 31, 32, and even 33, I never questioned that my time would come. Even convicts can get married, I thought. But then one day, the invitations stopped coming. Those friends I had showered with gifts of silver and china were out living their lives.  They were changing diapers, sending their kids off to school,  some were separating, divorcing and finding love again. Me, I had been promoted to the 35-50 age box. I had completed my MA, but compared to societal standards I had failed. A failed relationship and an upside down mortgage–this is not what I had dreamed of when I entered my 30′s.  I then began to realize that at 30 I’d assumed I’d have a life that wasn’t anything remotely close to what I was actually living.

Entering my 30′s I believed my happiness was subject to finding someone to share my life with, have a family and do what every other average American did every day. In kindergarten terms, I thought my 30′s were reserved for playing house.

As I started to check the 35+ box, I had to repaint the picture I had of myself and of my future. I had to start seeing myself as an individual, one who may not live the life I had always expected of myself.

This meant I may not get married. Even if I did, big weddings, large bridal parties and a Cinderella dress were no longer important to me. I wanted the marriage, not the wedding. It also meant, I may not have children. Despite the hype of women having kids well into their 40′s and for some 50′s, it’s really, really hard for women to get pregnant after 35. Not impossible, but increasingly difficult. I began to accept that if God gives them to me, great. If not, I am okay with that too. I’m not forcing  it.

I own my house, but it’s not the house I dreamt of growing up. There’s no pool in my backyard. Instead, I listen to the hum of 395. No library or movie room. Just a bunch of books stashed away in any empty nook I can find in my 900sq foot condo. And my movie room equals my living room filled with an  8 year old TV and a worn out sofa.  But, it’s all mine and every stain and scratch are compliments of my clumsiness and constant dinner companion, Tivo. This is my life. It’s not what I thought it would be at  30, but at 35+, it’s mine.

For me, the 30′s became a decade in which I battled to be ordinary. It never occurred to me that I could be extraordinary–that I could keep dreaming and reach for more than my mind could comprehend.  See, what I learned is that I had to let go of black and white traditional stereotypes and look at the world in full color.  It was only in full color that I was able to fully accept  that there was more to life than being ordinary. I  had to trade the ordinary for the extraordinary. And so while I still have time in my 30’s, the extraordinary starts now!