Tuesday, 21 October 2014

Just Under Three More Weeks...

I have just under three more weeks and then I'll be thirty.


I've been spending the last several weeks reflecting on the Danie from ten years ago. The Danie who was about to turn twenty was a goddamned mess. I found her blog and am ashamed that it was me who wrote it. I must say that it's a relief that I've always been so raw with my feelings when writing, but the content itself is so unnecessary and unimportant given the changes that I have undergone in the last ten years.

Turning twenty seems like it was tremendously devastating for me. I was going through what I had assumed would be the largest ordeals of my life, when in comparison, they were small fries. I was preparing to move to England and in turn, uproot my entire life for the sake of a love that I had little expectation would end only slightly less quickly than it had begun. I was drastically in love and content to shout it from the rooftops. I was the centre of my universe with little or no regard to anything or anyone that tried to distract from that. I alienated every single person from my life who didn't hold me on a pedestal, unwilling to acknowledge or feel any compassion for anybody but my own self. And for what? I lost several months of friendship with one of the most important and influential people in my life. I said embarrassingly hateful things to people who wanted nothing but to see me make decisions that were going to make my future as beautiful as I wanted it to be. People who were frustrated and exhausted with my petulant attitude and need for constant attention.

Actual constant attention. I literally posted like six entries a day, every single day. I was begging for people to idolize my desperation. There was no notice of other people, their needs, or really anything except how they could help me.

I was living in an ugly world. Nineteen for me was just an awful time and I wish I could go back and slap myself around a little bit and talk some sense to myself.  So many ties were severed in those several months before turning twenty and I hate that I let myself get that bad.

And since, I have gone to England, gotten married, lost my mother, gotten divorced, moved back to America, lost a couple of best friends, gotten married again, lost my grandmother, begun school, and endured the agonizing job that is step-parenting. And that's a nutshell, just a little snippet of the large, sweeping events that have headlined my life in the past ten years. It's been a highly eventful decade that has seen beauty and horrible. Seen great strides that have been painful, but have turned me into a person that I am proud of who has grown and learned hugely.

Now, today, I am just over three weeks to thirty and over three-quarters into my education, happily making my marriage into something I can be infinitely prouder of every day, and building friendships with people who are special and just as willing to let me uplift their lives as they do mine. It's a much more fulfilling and satisfying leap into a new decade.  I have achieved many things and come through a gigantic amount of experiences and I couldn't be happier with where my life is right now.

So, as I go into my next ten years. My thirties. I'm not as scared as I was prior to my twenties. I am eagerly awaiting what my next adventure will look like. How many more beautiful people I will meet, and what new experiences I will have. I can't wait to find out what I will learn and how I will grow. It's not as scary of a time for me and I welcome it with open arms.


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