I’m 30! I’m pregnant! Two huge milestones in my life. Looking back throughout the years, the nebulous themes of being married, pregnant or 30 were all lumped into a fuzzy category of “someday” and were exciting prospects that I didn’t think practically about at all.
One thing I gave some impractical thought to was being 30. That was because I was a little bit scared of turning 30. The whole idea of it being a big mile marker in one’s life, the fact that my Mom had all of her kids by age 30, the fear of getting gray hairs or wrinkles. Nobody wants to think about that, but I’m a natural worrier so that’s where I went: Old. Gray. Wrinkles?
Of course being 30 is still considered young. I have years to go until I’m considered “old”. What I wasn’t prepared for was the amount of critical thinking about my life and future I would be doing at this stage in my life. Luckily, I don’t have any regrets about my 20s aside from wishing I stuck up for myself more often in job situations and had been able to spend more one on one time with my Grandmother before she died. My problem in life has never been about regretting things. From a young age I’ve been so afraid of regretting anything that I’ve erred on the “crazy side”. Over analyzing what my goals were and what I wanted to do, spending time worrying about not being able to do those things to the point of exhaustion. OCD is something I’ve had since I was young and the fears associated with what *could* happen (bad things) drove me to spend loads of time praying that none of these things would come to pass, but a positive side effect being my career and lifestyle because of hyper-vigilance and perfectionism. Continue Reading →
