Turning 30

It happened.  I turned thirty.  It is what it is and there is nothing I can do about it.  Maybe I wouldn't care so much if I didn't look like I was thirty.  When I look at my freshly-washed face--a face that used to look just fine with nothing on it--I can't help but despair at the loose, porous skin, the dark patches above my eyelids, or the ever-feared wrinkles around my eyes and mouth.  To top it all off, I have a fantastic case of pregnancy acne and a small rash on the left side of my upper lip.  And let's not even get started with what is going on underneath my clothes!

On the flip side of turning thirty, I feel that I am a much better person that I was when I turned twenty.  The last decade held so many learning opportunities for me as I went from student to missionary, newlywed to mother.  It was an endless decade of growth where I've learned to be more generous, less judgmental, more passionate in loving my growing family, and more confident with myself.  I've learned that I actually don't like to scrapbook, play basketball, and a host of other things I found myself doing just because my friends do.  I've learned that I would much rather read a book than accomplish anything else, I prefer to run by myself, and that I don't miss my kids while they are in school.  And that is just fine by me!  Though I do miss the agility, energy, and flawless complexion of my early twenties, I do enjoy feeling that I am closer to discovering who I am supposed to be.

Now, wouldn't it be great if our inner accomplishments had physical manifestations?  What if every time I learned to be more grateful or more generous, my skins glowed a little more?  What if every time I treated my children and husband the way they deserved, I'd feel more fit and energetic? Of course, there are a host of moral problems with such a phenomenon.  How many of us would try to fake our way to beauty?  Or how many of us would try to do those things so that others wouldn't know our ugly insides?  It wouldn't work, but it would be nice if there were an easier way for women to enjoy aging and becoming.  I guess the true fault comes in the way our society worships beauty and sexuality over womanhood and character.  How grateful I am for the knowledge of the gospel and what really matters in the heart of a woman!

And while I am bound to despise those wrinkles and pores (I really just can't help it), I will try to look on my thirty years as a great accomplishment and hope that the next decade proves as fruitful!  To all my thirty-something (or soon to be) friends, here's to us!