“The Thirties: Cut the Bullshit and Go Be Awesome!” ~ Olivia Wilde
I just celebrated my thirtieth birthday this week. Thirty years worth of watching sunrises, laughing until I cried, crying tears of joy and sadness, and just living and being. I have never been one to worry about my age- getting older has never been something that scared me or caused me to get all freaked out. Of course, I have never turned thirty before, either.
Truth be told, I had some reservations about this birthday. I always thought that by the time I was thirty, that I would have my shit together and have life figured out. I figured my lack of self- esteem would finally go away; that I could finally accept that not everyone is going to like me or understand me and that would be okay. I was sure that I would get over my social anxiety and awkwardness- that finally, I would be able to walk into a room full of people and find more than one person I could talk to. That I would finally understand what the hell is so entertaining about “The Bachelor”… apparently, I have yet to figure any of this out.
If being blond could be a full time, paying gig, I would never have to work another day in my life. Unfortunately for me, being awkward is an everyday occurrence in my world- I never quite what to say to other women when they complain about the chips in their nail polish and the terrible dye-job done to their hair, how to sympathize with their diet plans, or even how to wear girly clothes. I embrace my own style so much that I am rarely offended when people give me strange looks when I walk through the grocery store in boots and spurs, or when sitting down at a restaurant table covered in manure after shipping calves; but I still feel weird wearing a dress, leggings, and tall boots to work. Not to mention that I still can’t figure out how to wear infinity scarves or eye liner. Seriously.
And quite frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. (If you don’t know what movie that is from, we can’t be friends. Just sayin’…)
The older I get, the more I realize that being a woman ain’t for the faint of heart.
That no matter what you do, you are going to step on someone’s toes and piss them off.
No matter how hard you try to fit in, there will always be people that judge the book’s cover and always treat you differently because they are too self absorbed to appreciate your differences.
That people will use you to fit their agendas– they will tell you they love you as you are, that they will always support you, and be there for you. Until they don’t. No one needs you more than when they have their own personal crisis and they think you can, or will, fix it. That might be why I like horses and dogs so much…
More importantly, though, I am learning that the best thing I can do- which is also the hardest- is to be myself. Every strange, awkward, quirky, crazy part of me is something that makes me exactly who God wants me to be right now. I have learned you have to love yourself first, because if you don’t love yourself, there isn’t anyone that will do it for you.
When it comes to motherhood, well, I have the combined experience of 8 years as a professional rug-rat-wrangler. I have learned you have to do what works for you and your kids. Who cares if you can’t breastfeed? Who cares if it takes forever to potty train your little ones? As long as you take the time to be present and be a loving, involved parent, it is nobody’s business how you raise your kids. Take the crazy and sometimes unwanted advice with a grain of salt and remember, kids don’t come with a manual, and there isn’t anyone that has this parenting gig figured out. Learn to have a sense of humor; and I have found that drinking (in moderation, mind you… hangovers help NO one!) also helps when your mini-me’s make you crazy.
Thirty years has taught me that the love of a good man is something to never take for granted. If he is honest, makes you laugh, makes you cry (in good ways- like he does romantic things like makes dinner once in a while, tells you that you are beautiful when you feel like a bloated sea cow, and stands beside you through childbirth), hold on loosely! Nobody likes to be nagged at, bossed around, or given an inferiority complex, so don’t be that way. Laugh at his stupid jokes, listen to his stories no matter how convoluted or boring they are, and share yourself with him. Life is better spent with someone who absolutely loves and lives for you. Reciprocate that.
At this age, good friends are hard to find. I have been blessed to rekindle old friendships with women that mean the world to me, and make new friendships with gals that are now like sisters to me. I have also learned to let go of people that never were friends, and to accept that you can’t put all the effort into a relationship and expect it to last. Be a good friend, and good friends will find you.
I never imagined that I would be celebrating my oldest daughter’s fifth birthday, my tenth wedding anniversary, and my thirtieth birthday all in the same year. To say that the woman I am today is very different from the woman I was ten years ago would be an understatement. In a lot of ways, I have gotten better- being a mom has made me realize there is more to live for than myself, and my heart has never been more full of love and pride.
I also know that time has jaded me- that having to go to jobs that I don’t care for, working with mean girls, and giving up a part of myself to raise my kids as best I can has changed me. And that is okay. As I enter this new decade of life on this planet, I realize that nothing lasts forever- all good things must come to an end, and yet the bad times never stay for too long. I hope that when I grow up, I will learn to love myself a little bit more. To stop using the F*bomb so much, and start smiling more. To find more humor in things that would normally irritate me. To learn to tell people to shove their self-righteous bullshit up their ass with a smile. To just enjoy my next thirty years- because I can’t believe how fast the first thirty have gone by.
So to my next thirty years I say: bring it on!
Much Love ~ Richelle