Well, I will officially have to change the name of my blog to "Confessions of a 29 year old (yes still) single, white female.” For as of Friday I will no longer be 28.
I am the youngest of four siblings. The story goes that my mom and dad were tossing the idea around of having a fourth kid. One day my dad says to my mom, “You know, I think three kids is just fine. We are in a good place financially, we have a nice house, I am not sure we should have any more.” My mother burst into tears, and through her gasps for air tells my father that she is pregnant to which my dad replies, “Four is ok! We can handle four!” in his best attempts at comforting her. So there you have it, 28—no 29 years later here I am. I am sure I was planned, by at least one parent, but none of you would be reading this right now had my mom thought, “three was enough.” So what do I owe to that decision? My life, and what a great life I have.
Turning 29 has me thinking back on my 20s and what this decade has done for me; I am overwhelmed at everything I have accomplished. When I graduated High School I didn't think I was smart enough to go to college. I resorted to the local community campus to take some general education classes. Once I realized that I was actually capable of succeeding in school I made an effort to get into a state school where I flourished. I loved college!
I knew that one thing I needed to do once I graduated was to become a homeowner. This was important to me for several reasons:
Firstly, as much as I love them, I didn’t want to live with my parents for any longer than I had to.
Secondly, homeownership is the American Dream right? I wanted something to call my own, something I could be proud of. Shortly after I got my first “Big Girl Job” I was able to save enough money for a down payment on a quaint little two bedroom townhome. Ah, at last the financial freedoms I had referred to in endless journal entries…or was it? Still at 28—I mean 29, I am nowhere close to being financially free, but I had something that was mine, no one could take it from me…except for Wells Fargo.
Now what? What’s left of my 20s but one year, and I am not sure where to go from here. I guess you could say I am lost. I have a decent career, Wells Fargo hasn’t kicked me out yet, my car runs when I can afford to fill it with gas and my family unit is tighter than ever.
I suppose I could feign for the cliché marriage and kids but isn’t that overrated? What happens to me then? The me I know now will disappear into a blur of cooking dinners, poopy diapers, projectile vomit, soccer practices and PTA meetings.
What will happen to that MBA I earned, will I be able to implement the concepts of that degree into my marriage, parenting? I can see it now, “Ok, kids I see we are having a conflict-let’s do a few case studies, read four hundred pages and write a 30 page research paper on the topic. One week from now, we will reconvene and discuss the best possible solution to who gets to ride in the front seat on Sunday.” Not quite.
I have heard several times that your 30s are better than your 20s. I hope that’s true, if it is than I have a lot to look forward to. Maybe settling down wouldn’t be so bad, to be needed by someone other than my dog might be a nice change. I guess it’s the unknown that makes turning 29 so scary. I am entering into a new decade of my life and hopefully I will find it to be one filled with more firsts, more opportunities for personal growth and a greater sense of who I am. It seems only then will I be a better person for the fictional family I have invented for my future self.
So here I come 29! I am not scared of you or the daunting number that comes after you!