For some reason, I have been calling myself 30 this entire year. Even though my birthday is only in January, I have already been feeling like I’ve started the next decade of my life.
This milestone feels a lot different than any other. I think for the first time, I am actually starting to feel like a real adult, and not a child just cosplaying as one.
I feel wiser than ever, more secure, happier and more content.
The other day I said I couldn’t wait to turn 30, and someone said to me that they would be celebrating their 25th birthday for a few more years because they hadn’t yet done the things they’d set out to do.
The assumption they were making was that I, on the other hand, was completely secure in my personhood, that life was going according to plan and that I had it all figured out; otherwise why on earth would I be fine with acknowledging and celebrating the passage of time?
That could not be further from the truth. Honestly, I think I am just as confused as ever about where exactly my life is headed. And I still feel like another, more capable, adult should be guiding my decisions.
When I was younger, I definitely thought everything would just fall into place and I would know what to do or where to go. But this time on earth feels more like being lost in a maze that keeps shifting walls and changing routes than anything else.
This is the first time any of us has been here, so there’s no real instruction manual detailing how we can self-actualise and find fulfillment.
In reality, I have just surrendered to the absurdity of existence. I no longer take anything seriously (if I ever did), and I choose to see beauty and humour in being happy with who I am.
A way I cope with the reality of being an actual person on this earth is by being extremely delusional.
When I write this column, I pretend no one will read it. When I lay my head on my pillow at night, I pretend that everything is alright and always will be. I imagine a bright future where all things work out, and I say a prayer of gratitude for all that I already am and have.
The thing is, the only people who don’t age are the ones who die.
Growing older, developing wrinkles, having strange back pains, yawning by 21h00 and having silver hair are all privileges in my eyes.
A misconception I used to have was that life felt a bit like an endless cycle of chores. The idea of washing dishes, sweeping the floors, brushing my teeth, hanging laundry, decluttering my space and watering the plants over and over until I die has haunted me for a long time.
The joy in approaching 30 is that I now see how wrong I was.
It’s not that I’ll always have dishes to wash, it’s that I’ll always have food to eat. I get to sweep floors because I have a home. I brush my teeth with pricy toothpaste because I can afford it. I hang laundry once a week because I have clothes on my back, and the freedom to choose how I want to look. Decluttering is necessary because I have the funds to keep buying things. And well, watering the plants is just therapeutic.
I’m blessed. I sometimes panic because I have not yet published a book or directed a feature-length film. I am sometimes fearful I might never get married or have children or travel the world.
But I am not going to let that stop me from enjoying the little beauties of life like my parents’ love and support, my sisters, my brother, my friendships, my job, my creative projects, my surroundings. These are even more important to me than appearing or remaining youthful.
That’s why I recently started playing tennis. I am not going to wait until I have it all figured out before I start doing things that bring me joy and keep me healthy. I’m going to find ways to make the time I have left meaningful, and hope I one day get to impact the world in the same way many other poets, writers and artists have in the past.
I want to use my time to do as much good as possible and to share what I have with those around me.
That’s why I have been calling myself 30 all year.
Because it means I have made it this far, and that in itself is a win.
– Anne Hambuda is a writer, social commentator and poet. Follow her online or email her at annehambuda@gmail.com for more.
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