30

In the past around my birthday, I’ve selected a song that’s been speaking to me recently and use it as a sort of metaphor for my life. But seeing as how life in general is in complete disarray and I’ve mostly been listening to sappy Taylor Swift songs that didn’t seem like the best angle.

As I’ve approached the milestone of three decades on the Earth, I’ve been reflecting on how this past years has been one of loss and frustration and it’s not just because of the COVID pandemic. I’ve had to wrestle with dreams lost and goals unmet. I’ve faced death and considered who humanity is in the midst of loss. I’ve struggled with my racial identity and how the current racial climate in America has made me feel simultaneously heard and marginalized.

But it has also been a year full of life, love, and joy. I’ve watched my nephews continue to grow and change and show me more about love than I ever thought possible. I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone and met new people. I’ve learned and accepted the fact that loving and liking myself doesn’t mean I’m not insecure and frustrated at times. It means that these fractures show me I am more than the sum of my darkest times.

And as I look to year thirty of my life, I am–perhaps for the first time–holding my life with open hands.

I feel at peace.

So bring it on, 30.