On 30.

All grown-ups were children first. (But few remember it).
--The Little Prince


Today I am 30 and 1 week. One week into my thirties is not very much time to reflect on the past or plan for the future, but so far so good. Most of my friends are turning 30 this year and it is a milestone in our lives. Over the past few weeks we’ve shared excitement and anxiety. We’ve found new reason to celebrate. Have we accomplished our goals up to this point, are we ready to embrace our individual notions of 30 and support each other through the transition? At 15, I thought 30 was old. And 40? Definitely over the hill. At 30 (and 1 week), though, I still feel young. I don’t know what “adult” feels like, and I don’t think I’m there yet. I work as a professional, but cringe at being called a woman. Yet, I also resent being carded at restaurants and bars. I have accomplished a decent amount to this point and feel I’m entitled to a drink without the hassle. So, where do I find my happy medium? On my last day in my twenties, I embraced the transition. I promised myself that my thirties would be about me and those that I love. I promised to focus on my personal health and well-being; a cleansing decade if you will. I will strive to give selflessly to my new husband, to start a family, and to keep my friends close to me. I want to live in the moment. I want to blog more. I want to make a difference somewhere. And so what about not "feeling" like an adult. I don't see what all the fuss is about anyway.