I like thirty

I've been thirty for six months now.
I'm really liking it and that surprises me.
I was kind of afraid that this age would instantly turn my hair gray, kill my remaining eggs and give me wrinkles. I am happy to report that my worries were a bit dramatic. I still look the same.

But I'm different. I'm different and I am so much happier. For the first time in my life, I am comfortable in my own skin. I'm okay with me. That might sound so cheesy, but I've battled anxiety and body dismorphia off and on my whole life, and this is big.

I'm finally okay with who I am in Christ, who I am as a woman. At thirty, I realize, finally, that I don't have to be liked by every single person. I don't have to be the thinnest, or the funniest, or any of that.

It was so exhausting trying to be the girl that was all those things.

The truth is, sometimes I eat things that would make my Whole30 friends cringe. And I am not a bad person for it. 
The truth is, sometimes I don't smile all day long. Sometimes the thought of having to smile one more time is crazy overwhelming.
The truth is, I have never been perfect and as I age, my body is subtly changing. I have varicose veins from birthing big babies. I have two stretch marks on my belly. I used to be afraid to wear shorts. In Florida.
Not anymore.
I'm finally happy. Comfortable. I'm realizing that THIS body, flawed as it may be, is mine for life. So I can be good to it.
Thirty to me means I can finally feel confident. My twenties were a giant roller coaster of fear and playing it safe. Thirty means I am finally realizing that God has BIG, good plans for me and I can get excited about them.

I finally feel free.