For a few years I’d been hearing friends describe all the magical things that I had to look forward to in turning thirty. Promises of a sudden arrival at inner peace, burst of self-confidence, and clarity of wants in life, painted a picture I was definitely excited about.
But when my thirtieth birthday came, I was disappointed that I didn’t feel much different.
I was the same person with the same old insecurities, working the same job, still stressed by the same things, wearing the same clothing. I was still just as miserable as I’d been the days before my birthday. But after a few weeks it hit me:
Turning thirty doesn’t force a moment of spiritual awakening, but it does provide justification for ditching what doesn’t work for you.
And I realized that what doesn’t work for me… is all my stuff.