Here I am, on the eve of another birthday. I always use this time of year for reflection; it’s largely important to me that when I look back on the previous 365 days, I see evidence of how I’ve moved myself forward and overcome obstacles I may have been facing. As I look back on 30, some things come to mind:

– Hands down, this was the year of life when I did the most changing – new location, new jobs, new outlook, new attitude.

– At the rate I’m moving, 31 will be eventful and full of lots of hard work. It’s a good thing I’m no stranger to hard work.

– By this time next year, I will hold two masters degrees. I never even dreamed of such a reality, but this is happening. I surprised myself.

– I’m more athletic and active at 30 turning 31 than I was at 20 turning 21. That’s supposed to spell longevity. I sure hope so!


21 year old Antoinette sure liked to dance on tables a lot…


Soon-to-be 31 year old Antoinette is not about that life.

– It’s abundantly clear to me how far I’ve moved away from my 20s, even though I’m only starting my second year of my 30s. Unless “party” means yummy takeout, some wine, and video games on the couch, I don’t party anymore. I don’t wear club clothes anymore. I choose not to engage ignorance anymore. I’m not eager to mold myself into what others want. At this point, it’s pretty clear who and what I am.

– …but that’s not to say I can’t still be adventurous. I took up pole dancing at age 30. More on that later…

– I’ve never been more concerned about planning for my future. In fairness, this probably started at 28 when I became pregnant, but I intend to close out my 30s pulling back from the workhorse lifestyle and reaping the fruits of my labor.

– I still don’t get what the big deal is about getting a year older. People like to pretend you’re going to go to sleep and wake up a different person because you’ve reached that magical day on the calendar when you were born however many years ago. Get over it, folks. It’s not some huge change. Just live on. Live ON!

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day as well, which spells no chores, no cooking, and God-willing no major stresses tomorrow. Perhaps this will be what “taking a day off” from momhood is like, if one could submit a time off request (I doubt it).

Here’s to 31, which promises to be another transitional age for me, but hopefully one that will set up for a rewarding 32.

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