on being 30-something...

I'd like to offer some deep thoughts on what birthdays mean to me now that I'm over 30... but I'm fresh out of deep thoughts. Which shouldn't surprise me as much as it does, I s'pose. It's not like I got the gift of wisdom for my birthday two years ago when I left my 20's behind. But I somehow thought I'd have it all figured out by now.

I mean, when I was a kid, 30 was this magical number. I always thought that 30-somethings were so... not old, exactly... but settled. Responsible. Mature. Being 30 meant I'd know where I was going in life, and I'd be well along the path meant to take me there. Being 30 was supposed to mean I'd be settled in at a job, into a happy marriage, and perhaps even into parenthood. I'd own a house; perhaps not one with a white picket fence, but a place where I could put down roots, a home I could call my own. I'd have traveled extensively throughout Europe, with a few trips to Australia under my belt as well. I'd speak French fluently. I'd be thinner and prettier and somehow less shy. I'd finally be a "lady." I'd have survived all of fortune's slings and arrows and come through with my head held high. I'd be published. I'd be competent. Confident. Complete.

Let me tell you, that isn't the case. At 32, I'm far from being settled, responsible and mature, though sometimes I look at my grey hairs and feel a bit old. I wonder whether I'll ever find my path. I wonder if there *is* a path. I screw up. Regularly. I never found a career I wanted to devote myself to. I'm terrified to take on the challenges of parenting. I'm no jetsetter. I rent. I'm married, and I've found it takes constant work to stay that way. My French skills are abysmal. I curse like a sailor and snort when I laugh. Being a writer remains a nebulous dream.

Not that it's all bad; far from it, in fact. I have a loving husband and closer ties to my family than I've ever had before. I had the financial stability to stop working when I was miserable doing what I did. I've tapped into my creativity in new ways with scrapbooking. I've learned how to take photographs that bring me to the heart of my memories. I've clocked thousands of miles behind the wheel of cars I've loved to drive. I've cruised the Caribbean and not gotten seasick. I've memorized the DC Metro map. I've been to "The End." I've celebrated my grandfather's 90th birthday, my parents' 40th anniversary, and my nephew's birth. I've served on a grand jury. I've earned a reputation as an excellent cook. I've filled my home with laughter, with family and friends. These are all good things and I am grateful for them. It's just that when I look around me, I'm not where I thought I would be.

C'est la vie.