af1896e111e348d9f7a764b39591bc64I woke early this morning from a lovely dream about horses to my cat Amber walking purposefully across my stomach to my face.  Apparently she was hungry.  As I got back in bed for a few sweet moments of snoozing, I realized, quite suddenly, I’m 30.  I’ve been 30 for 6 months now but for whatever reason, I became 30 at 5am this morning.  Turning 30 was no big deal, or so I thought.  It’s just a number right.  But after 6 months of being 30 I feel differently.  I know, I know, 30 is still young, but it’s different from being in my twenties.  In 10 years I’ll be 40.  That’s a crazy thought.  What will my life be like?  Will Clay and I decide to have a kid?  Will I have several horses?  Will I finally own a farm?? Will I even recognize my life? Suddenly it feels like I have things to accomplish and I need to accomplish them now.

10 years ago I could have never predicted where I would be when I turned 30.  I had no concept of being an adult and having a life beyond college.  I thought by the time I was 30 I would magically own a 100 acre horse farm.  Specifically 100 acres.  And that’s where the planning stopped.  I remember vaguely thinking I would have cute dishes.  20 was a big year for me.  It was the last year I was competitive in hunters, I got my first car payment, and I moved out of my parent’s house.  I also met my first love and began the hippie phase of my life.  I don’t remember this but my mom said I told her I wanted to live in a tent in the woods, and I was serious.

At 30 I have a home, a wonderful fiancé, 3 cats, 1 dog and a horse.  I also have a very grown up job.  It’s so grown up that I feel weird telling people what I do for a living.  Financial Analyst.  My 20 year old self would have never believed it was possible.  Not only am I dealing with math everyday, I’ve become “corporatized”.  I truly don’t mind my cubical.   I wear pencil skirts and trousers and black pumps almost everyday.  I wear studs in my ears instead of dangly colorful earrings.  I don’t own very many knit items anymore.  I love shopping whereas I used to hate consumerism.

c4940a5369fb984499a4b6ac656dfe02At 30 I have clear definable goals.  I want a horse farm (a small one though…not 100 acres).  I want to earn my bronze, silver and gold USDF medals.  I want to make more money.  Money.  At 20 I really didn’t think money was important.  Love and living life was important.  It’s not that I’m totally driven my money now, but I understand better that I need money to live the kind of life I want.  The kind that involves horses and traveling and doggie daycare.

Say I’m fortunate enough to achieve my goals.  What then?  Will I regret not having kids?  Will I want a simpler life?  Will I be more driven in my career?  Will the precious friendships of my thirties survive or will they melt away like so many of my friendships from my 20s?  And why, all of a sudden, am I questioning everything?


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