Life in my thirties presented a huge contrast to life in my twenties. I had married very young, divorced, rebounded into a second marriage, and divorced a second time all before I turned thirty.
On my thirtieth birthday, I received calls from friends all over the country wishing me a Happy Birthday. My last call on that happy day was from my mom. She called to wish me a Happy Birthday and she went on to say how happy she was that I had finally made it out of the turbulent twenties. I was so surprised to hear her say this and she went on to explain that in your twenties, you are thought of in many ways. Life in the twenties is often about being self-involved and self-centered. Looks and body image are extremely important.
I had a very responsible job in my twenties and it wasn’t until I reached thirty that I felt I had earned it honestly.
In my thirties, I was finally given credit for the knowledge and wisdom that I had picked up over time. I used to watch the “sweet young things” as they sauntered around and tried to impress the men in our workplace with their looks and bods.
I loved my thirties. I had a steady male friend but, in my thirties, I felt as though I developed my sense of humor and my ability to have fun. I often call these my “teenage years”
I had a fun-loving group of friends. We rented a house boat on the Delta and partied together. We skied and visited Lake Tahoe and Reno to catch dinner shows, concerts and to gamble conservatively. There were numerous great times and memories to last a lifetime.
At age thirty-seven, I reconnected with a special guy that I’d known since my late teens. We grew close and married. At age thirty-nine, I had my one and only child and was in awe of the miracle of life.
My thirties were filled with fun, friends, good decisions and marrying for all the right reasons. I had a great job, my own home and a sense of contentment with the person I had become. Looking back, mom was right after all.