Twenty-Nine, Thirty, Thirty-one . . .

I'll be 31 in a little over two months.  Turning 30 was not a big deal to me and I didn't do any soul searching about what the hell am I doing with my life, what is my path, and will I ever get married/have kids/find the right career/etc.  I've got the big stuff figured out and nailed down.  Married - check.  Child - check.  House - check.  Meaningful and loving relationships with friends and family - check. Stay at home mom as a career - awesome check.

As I approached 30, and after the day came and went, I started to think about the little things about myself.  Things that in my 20s I would do/say/act/pretend(!) because it was beneficial to life and school/career and relationships.

#1 on the list was socializing with others.  Believe it or not, I am not an overly social person.  I love meeting new people, visiting with friends and family, going out and about and attending events and parties.  But . . . I like doing it on my own terms.  M and I have parties and get togethers and it's always a blast and I'm totally comfortable.  I make the rules, set the tone, and invite who I want.

My husband is involved with several organizations that require a lot of wining and dining and kiss-assing.  I like wining.  A lot.  And dining.  But, once again, on my own terms (apparently I also like wHining).  I am almost always a good sport and go along with M to whatever he has to do and force myself to be social. The events usually end up being quite tolerable, if not fun.  After some wining and dining (more so the wining), I am more comfortable and feel more at ease to play nicely with others.

Approaching 30, I decided I don't have to get my anxiety in a tizzy because of a social event.  I am who I am.  After becoming a mom, I became more accustomed to my own skin.  Not the skin other people think I should be wearing, or even the skin I think I should be wearing for the situation.  Which leads me to #2 on my list.

Judging others. 

We all judge others in one way or another.  I rarely judge based on looks/dress/career/etc.  Usually it's personality.  There are personalities I instantly click with.  And then theres's the personalities that leave me with welts on my tongue. . 

So people end up in one of three categories in the Rolodex in my brain:
1. I like/love you and want to be your BFF forever and ever and ever. Amen.
2. I tolerate you and/or I am going to have to meet you again to see which category you belong.
3. I hate you.  Don't look at me. 

Now let's realize that while you may fall in Category 2 or 3, I will outwardly show you kindness and respect like those in Category 1.  I'm not a total bitch.

The problem that arises when putting your card in my mental Rolodex is that sometimes it goes in the wrong place.  For example, Category 1, over time, ends up a Category 3.  And vice versa. I have lived through both scenarios several times.  On almost all accounts, it was an issue of mistaken personality identity, for instance at a social event where beer/wine make you look fine, and liquor makes you friends quicker.  Or they are super confident the first time you meet, but then you come to find out they are actually super needy.  Talk about awkward.  I've been on both sides and both are equally shitty.

Thirty has taught me to be ME.  If you don't like me, that's okay.  Really, it is.  But get to know me first.  You may be surprised. Or dissapointed.  Or delighted.  Or horrified.  I don't know.  But, I promise you'll get the real me.  Not the me I thought I had to be in the situation we were in.  And I guarantee I'll give you the same respect.

Thirty is good. I think thirty-one will be even better. 

Back to blogging . . .

I've been considering getting back into blogging. I do enjoy it and now that J is older, I have more time to blog. Also, I hit the big 3-0 this year and the milestone has prompted some self reflection. Hope those of you following will continue following!