Last week I turned thirty. And it was nothing like I expected it to be. I was extra emotional and found myself in tears quite a few times. I had this vision of myself at 30, having my shit together, dream body, dream business, dream life, naively thinking I’d magically transform into the type of woman who has it all figured out.
And since I’m far from having it all figured out, I kind of felt like a failure. So in spite of having an incredibly blessed week celebrating with my dearest, I was silently hosting a pity party for one.
It occurred to me that my ego is to blame. Ego tells us we have something to prove. Ego separates us from other human beings, it makes us feel alone.
And let’s face it, ego’s a persistent little shit.
But sometimes a girl just needs to feel sorry for herself, to reflect, to surrender. In the darkest days, when I’m feeling my lowest, that’s where the growth takes place.
So cheers to 30 years on this beautiful planet! And Cheers to not having it all figured out, but still trying my best!