On Turning 30
Image via Unsplash by Philip Myrtorp, @philipmyr
As you may know, I am freshly 30, and I worried the whole way here. I silently and loudly obsessed about this milestone to myself and my friends and my therapist for the entire month of November.
And I turned 30 in one of my least favorite places - an airplane. If you don't believe me, I wrote about all my weird and stressful thoughts in this post, here.
But it wasn't that bad because things are rarely as bad as you've worried them to be. And just as you'd expect, I've written about the whole experience in this love letter to you, below.
If you're staring wide-eyed at any upcoming giant milestone, 30 or not, this one is for you.
I turned 30 on an airplane in the middle seat, 7E. Sat in between a high school soccer player who Tik Tok’d her way to a dead battery and a man who ate so much beef jerky it should be illegal.
His shoulders bounced up and down as he tried to contain his laughter from the text exchange with one of his friends a few rows up.
She walked up and down the aisles to talk with teammates when the seatbelt sign was off.
I was objectively alone, but felt as far from it as I possibly could. This feeling is the best present I could hope for anyone to receive as they find their 20s in the rearview.
I was on my way home from spending a few days in Boston with family I hadn’t seen in nearly a year. It was an unplanned trip, one generously booked by my stepdad who honored my “if this, then this” list of preferences for exactly where to sit on the flight.
I prefer the aisle, but not if the only open aisle seats are further than halfway back on the plane. If this is the case, then preference moves to middle seat as close to the front as possible, except for not first class or Plus-Plus-Double-Plus because those are stupidly expensive.
In summary, bless him.
On my birthday, I arrived at the airport for the trip home equipped with all of my tools to play whack-a-mole with my anxiety for the 6-hour flight.
I had downloaded three comedy specials on Netflix, the entire soundtrack of Hamilton, seven episodes of various podcasts because you never know, and countless remixes of songs from Taylor Swift’s latest album. I had not eaten for three hours prior to takeoff, had taken a Dramamine, rolled Icy Hot all over my neck and lower back, and had a wristband that gave electrical pulses every few seconds for the entirety of the flight.
Placebo or not, all my witchcraft worked.
I nodded off here and there and awoke at different parts of Hamilton. Fell asleep when Alexander met Iliza and woke up when he cheated on her, the big jerk.
I turned 30 and I didn’t even feel it. No lightning bolt of existential dread, no new discernable wrinkles. I landed in my city in the Southwest, rolled my suitcase out to the passenger pickup line, opened the door of the familiar F150 and kissed my dog and my boyfriend and I was 30.
I got home and showered and I was 30.
Put on the new matching plum-colored pajama set my boyfriend had gotten for my birthday and I was 30.
Went to work in the morning with my hair in a clip and I was 30.
Felt content and loved and 30.
Felt tired and energized and 30.
Felt suspiciously welcoming of 30.
It’s not so bad to be 30.
I hope whatever your main worry is today, be it holiday family stress or new-year-new-me stress or regular everyday 21st century stress, that you remember to center yourself in today, surrounded by loved ones and with a backpack full of tools to get you through all of it.
Maybe you don't require as extensive a list of rituals and supplies and entertainment to chill out in times of stress, or maybe you are the Queen of Preparedness and have even more things and tactics than me (If so, color me impressed).
Regardless, you're doing great. This time of year is beautiful and difficult, just like any good milestone.
Sometimes I need essential oils and peppermint gum and a prayer sent Express Shipping to whatever God means to me at the moment and sometimes all I need is a cup of tea and a nap.
One thing that has always helped me feel even an ounce better, no matter what, is writing. I love a good brain dump or cranky journal scribbles. I can feel like I have nothing to say, then a writing prompt asks me just the right question in just the right way and I've discovered feelings and thoughts I didn't know I felt or thought!
If you or someone on your gift exchange list this year is equally well cared for through writing, The Write it to Right it Journal is on sale for the rest of 2022. Use code THANKFUL30 (because, duh!) for 30% off your order.
Not sure if guided journaling is your thing? Download a chapter of the Write it to Right it Journal for free at the footer of our homepage.
Still yours - just older and (none the) wiser,
Emily Rose // Miss Magnolia
Looking for more? Grab yourself a guided journal!
Half book, half journal, this paperback collection of stories and pointed questions is designed to help you dig deep and shake loose those "ah-ha's" that are buried within you. Because no matter how stuck or scattered you may feel, YOU have all the answers.
The WITRI Journal contains over 75 pages that aim to foster connection back to yourself and tackle complex brainthoughts like self doubt, imposter syndrome, and self acceptance.
Build yourself up by digging into your foundation with this incredible reflective read!
This journal not only aims to support your mental wellness, but that of others as well. 50 cents from every purchase made here on our website will go to a rotating incredible cause. Right now, donations are being made to Moms Demand Action, an organization that fights for common sense gun laws.
Want to learn more about the WITRI Journal? Check out this post for a deeper dive.
Pop one in your cart for yourself or a friend today!