The Expectations of Turning 30

I don’t know about you but I have harder expectations for myself than anyone else has for me. 

I know I haven’t written a blog post since August, I really meant to but just couldn’t. I started a post half way through August about turning thirty and what that meant, but I just couldn’t write it. 

I don’t know what turning thirty means. It’s so different for everyone. I had no clue where I thought I would be at thirty but it isn’t where I am and that’s okay. I never expected to be married. Living in Burnaby. In a job I love that happens to be the same place my best friend and some other friends work. I never expected to be walking with a cane sometimes. I thought I would be published by now. 

But that’s all okay. I’m doing the best I can with what I have. I’m so grateful for the friends and family I have. I’m happy mobility aids exist. I’m grateful for my job and where I live. I’m happy I get to publish this blog online, even though I haven’t managed to publish a novel. 

Who cares that other people my age are father along in their careers and have kids. I don’t want kids and I’m in a job I like, even if it isn’t what my degree is in. 

So much pressure is put on people when they’re 18 to figure out their whole lives and it really isn’t fair. I’m not who I thought I was going to be at 18 and that’s probably for the best. 

So for now I’m just going to enjoy my pumpkin spice everything and say fuck anyone’s expectations of me, especially my own.