My peanut butter birthday cake.
I never had that freakout you’re supposed to have at 30. So many exciting things were happening in my life at that time — getting married, moving to California, turning my focus to the business — that it didn’t seem like there was anything to worry about. I felt the same at 31 and 32. But this birthday feels a little different.
I’m sure it’s the becoming-a-parent thing. But it really gives you this sense of closing one door and opening another. Like I’m finally accepting that one era of my life is over and I will never have it again. You certainly are never the same once you have kids. And that’s a good thing, but there is definitely some mourning for all the good things about being young(er) and carefree.
In the past year I’ve put my body through hell physically, so there’s also a bit of the ‘it ain’t what it used to be’ going on there. I’m so impressed with my body for being able to grow a human, but all the stretching and weight gain/loss and sleepless nights take their toll. I’m not saying I feel old. I just feel different. I think I have to figure out who I am in this new identity. Because although I’ve always wanted to be a mom, I’m so many things I never thought I would be — a business owner, a Californian, a person who is very far outside of her comfort zone. Maybe that’s what 33 will be. Finding out who I am now that I’ve opened that other door and stepped on through.