Strayed too far


Hello, 31. We could not possibly be further from where we were at 30 if we tried, could we? If there’s one thing this birthday has taught me, it’s how much can change in just the span of one year.

Last year, I turned 30 feeling, as I almost never do (which should have been a red flag in itself), on top of the world: I had the man whom I had always looked at as the love of my life by my side, a solid circle of friends who had been such a large part of my support system, and what was probably the closest I would ever get to a feeling of peace. And today, I turn 31, having hit rock bottom this year, and have only just begun to try and drag myself back up, but not without the help of a very small handful of people who have made it more bearable. I imagine the feeling is not unlike that of plummeting 100,000 feet through the air to crash-land in a mire.

How did it come to this? How did I allow my life to spiral so far out of my control that it feels as though I have achieved absolutely nothing at this age? How did I allow so many aspects of my life to take such a backseat that I now have nothing but a career to show for it? Every year I make a note of how I am not where I thought I would be at my age, but that I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. However, this year, I am not where I thought I would be at 31, but I definitely wish I were somewhere, anywhere, but here.

If anyone had told me two birthdays ago what my life would be like this very day, I would have snorted hard enough to draw blood. And yet, looking at everything I’ve gained, lost, learned and become in these last 730 days, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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