I Just Showed Up For My Own Life
On September 26th I had a conversation with a coworker (a former coworker now) about my approaching 30th birthday. It was his birthday, his 31st, and we discussed how old 30 seems when you’re young and how some people dread it but he told me that it was one of the best years of his life. I shared with him that I have no trepidations about turning 30 and that, in fact, I felt that I was at a point in my life where I was finally beginning to feel comfortable in my own skin and that I was really happy with where my life was at. That conversation seems to have stuck with me and it’s perhaps due to my ironically losing my job the very next day.
In the days after my employment was severed I pondered the idea of being happy with who I was and if that had changed at all. Sadly this was the third time I was in the position of filing for unemployment and both times previous I was quite the wreck. Eventually. For me, losing a job always starts with tears then progresses into a wild sort of euphoria brought on by denial which is followed by The Crash. That’s when the depression would set in and I would gain 10lbs before losing 15lbs.
I was determined not to let that cycle repeat this time and I’m still trying to decide if I escaped it due to my newfound confidence in myself or pure providence. Two weeks to the day after I lost my job I was offered a new one and shockingly it was even better than what I left.
That’s not to say that the last few weeks haven’t been without their own unique turmoils. Spy Baby has not taken well to the sudden shift in routines and is challenging my vow to not color my hair by adding more gray daily. Then there were the daycare issues and the monetary setbacks and so on and so forth. The thing of it is that these are problems that normally make me want to throw up my hands and cry out to God asking why he’s forsaken me. Not so much this time.
I actually feel more like me now than I did a month ago. It’s that sensation of knowing that I’m in the right place at the right time. Like I’m finally going in the right direction and if I keep moving I’m going be exactly where I need to be. Kind of crazy.
So I’m pushing 30 now, still have no husband and have a couple of kids who are, at the best of times, a handful, am in the midst of bouncing back from my third job loss and suddenly I wouldn’t change a thing. Well, maybe I’d change the destruction of my house but mostly I’m good 
I am who I am from my chronic foot-in-mouth disease to my sparkling intellect and I’m okay with it all. Finally, I’m good.
