29… It’s a Long One

I've been wanting to write this post for weeks now, but every time I sat down to do it, something else seemed more pressing. The laundry needed folding, the dishes were piling up, and the kids were driving each other nuts. It's funny how life has a way of filling itself with distractions when you're trying to focus on something meaningful. But deep down, I knew I had to write this. There was a niggling voice in the back of my mind telling me to put pen to paper—or fingers to keyboard—and just pour out my thoughts.

Sometimes, it's easier to avoid the tough stuff. It's easier to clean the house or play with the kids or scroll endlessly through social media than it is to confront the deeper emotions swirling inside. But lately, I've been realizing that running away from my feelings only gives them more power. So here I am, finally sitting down to face them head-on.

I'm turning thirty next month, and while that might sound insignificant to some, it feels like a milestone worth acknowledging. Thirty! It's a number that seems to hold so much weight, yet when I really think about it, it's just another step along the path. Still, there's something about reaching this age that makes me want to reflect on the past year and figure out where I stand.

If I had to sum up the last twelve months in one word, it would probably be "growth." Not the kind of growth that happens overnight, but the slow, steady kind that sneaks up on you until you wake up one day and realize you're standing somewhere completely different from where you started. Some of that growth came easily, like the joy of watching my kids grow and learn. Other parts were harder—like navigating the challenges of moving across the country and starting over in a new place. There were moments of pure exhilaration, like finding a new passion or celebrating a small victory. And then there were the darker times, the ones that felt impossible to overcome.

But here's the thing: even in those darker moments, there was beauty. Not the kind of beauty that sparkles and shines, but the kind that's subtle and quiet. It's the way my husband held me close when I cried after losing a loved one. It's the way my daughter handed me a flower she picked from the yard and said, "This is for you, Mommy." These moments taught me that even in the hardest times, there's always something to hold onto.

I used to think that avoiding pain was the answer. That if I kept myself busy enough, I wouldn't have to feel the sting of disappointment or the ache of loss. But the truth is, you can't outrun your feelings forever. They'll catch up to you eventually, and when they do, they'll hit you harder than ever. So instead of running, I'm choosing to sit with them. To acknowledge them. To let them teach me something.

Turning thirty doesn't mean I have all the answers. Far from it. But it does mean I'm ready to embrace the unknown. To trust that even when life gets messy, it's still worth living. And maybe, just maybe, I'll come out the other side stronger than before.

Therapy session over.

"You can't start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one."

I think it's time to start this next chapter with a fresh perspective, a few birthday celebrations, and my two sweet little loves.

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