Tuesday, November 26, 2013

I’m constantly reminded that my twenties are coming to an end. It used to really freak me out, but lately I’m really finding myself not only coming to terms with THIRTY, but also looking at how I have changed and grown and how thirty has made me comfortable in my own skin. But, I’ve also become sort of…old ladyish. For example:

1.     I constantly want to tell teenage girls to put some clothes on. I mean, it’s not like I was ever a super provocative dresser and had my own mother tell me to cover up, but I was definitely not a buttoned-up person. But…I mean, is it just me, or are the clothing choices being made just ridiculous? I don’t know, but I every time I see a girl with a shirt that might as well be a bra or in shorts that resemble underwear, I just want to cover her up with a jacket. IT’S NOT CUTE.
2.     I drink coffee. A lot of coffee. I always thought coffee was kind of gross but in the past 6 months not only do I love it, I can’t function without it. Even in college, I wasn’t one of those students who couldn’t get up for class without a cup of coffee or who binge drank lattes while cramming for finals. I drank cans and cans of soda and hoped for the best. But now, coffee is my best friend. And Starbucks just keeps sucking my bank account dry.
3.     I don’t wear a lot of makeup. I used to be one of those girls that would rather be caught dead than go out without make up on. Now I’m all up in yoga pants, my hair all cray with NO MAKE UP. I just don’t care anymore. Even when I put some on, it’s basically face make-up (powder, NO LIQUID) and mascara. If I’m feeling wild, I’ll put on some eyeliner. Besides, I live in Rodeo – who the hell am I trying to impress here?
4.     I go to bed before 11. For any of you that know me, that’s unheard of. I used to be a night owl and now I’m in bed around 10 and I’m up by five. FIVE A.M., people. I told my sister the other day that I’d rather get up earlier and be able to leave work earlier than sleep in. I DON’T EVEN RECOGNIZE MYSELF ANYMORE.
5.     I’m content being where I am. WHAT? I mean, I spent pretty much all of my 20s wanting something different, wanting everything different. Everything I did was motivated by trying to be someone different, to be what I thought everyone wanted me to be. It was motivated by trying to do what I thought I was supposed to do or what I thought would make me more like everyone else. Everything I did was motivated by trying to make my life what I thought it should be instead of letting my life make ME who and what I should be. It only took 29 years, but I think I got it…sort of.
6.     If shizz takes effort, I’m probably not into it. No, I’m not talking about work or relationships. I mean, like, going out. A club? Yeah right. Taking hours to get ready and wearing high heels and doing my hair and wearing pants that are way too tight. I mean, no. Give me some yoga pants and a glass of wine. I’m super set, guys.
7.     I just don’t have time for things anymore. And, I don’t just mean for TV (which is true – I hardly watch TV anymore). I mean bullshit, really. I don’t have time for people who don’t make time for me. I don’t have time for people who are selfish or flakey or people who waste time trying to be 22 still. I have a handful of people in my life who support me, who make me laugh, who I enjoy spending time with, and those are the people I make time for and want to make time for. Everything else? Sorry, man.

So, this is pretty much 30-year-old me. That number used to terrify me and I used to be so anxious about where my life wasn’t at when this number was looming, but now I’m embracing everything this next phase in my life is bringing me. Thirty for sure is the new twenty.