I think unlike most people in my circle, I was actually excited to step into the world of thirty, stepping into adulthood. When I was still 29, I always thought that I was already 30. Well, the first digit of my age would change, it should be another beginning of something, right?
Maybe, because I was excited, I got a little too expectant. I was never into big birthdays and stuff but throughout birthdays I would always wish for something that’s meaningful (as cheesy as it sounds). As little as, my closest friends gave me their warmest wishes, that I perceived was from the heart that they really made my day.
I was expecting a letter for my birthday, but I didn’t get any since people were busy. Even too busy to scribble me a little letter. My mom wanted to make a little bash, but she was too busy (she had been out of town a lot lately) to make a proper one. She got a cake for me but didn’t get to gather other family member to celebrate and I had to catch a night flight that day, so she just grabbed my dad and had me blew the candle. I was annoyed with the mandatory ‘celebration’, I mean if we didn’t have the time, we don’t have to do it at all, just send me sincere wishes and be nice to me all day and I am set.
I have to admit that this year has been good to me. To whine and feel annoyed about how my birthday had passed is unfair. I am not 10, anymore. It is kind of embarrassing to have felt that way, but I felt that and I have to admit it.
I guess, now is the time when I need to be more grateful. God has lifted me up from the dark and showed me ways that I never knew existed. Maybe this is about being thirty, learning to be grateful, learning to be humbler, learning to be a mature individual, learning to grow.
So, here I am, welcoming thirty.