THE TRUTH ABOUT TURNING 30

 
 

A letter to 20-something me.

Hey you, I think it's time we sit down for a talk. It is important for me that I write this letter from place of tender loving care,  and that you listen with a open and loving heart. 

I know life for you wasn't easy. You've dealt with unfathomable pain.  If I can remember precisely we were always a fighter. Fighting to stay alive during moments you wanted to give up on yourself. There was one fight in particular that was the toughest – having to fight off bullies that sought to fuck with you at any given moment, then to have to go to a place where both love and abuse coexisted. This place was called home. 

Home never felt like OM.  In fact, you would take any opportunity to sneak out during hours you weren't permitted to leave the house. Home is where you struggled with  your identity and self-worth. You wore masks in order to please the person you loved the most – mommy.  But, girl,  you weren't fooling anybody, especially not mommy. 

By the age of 25, you were having a severe quarter life crisis. Daddy passed away, and you've been carrying the guilt of not taking the opportunity to really love him during his final days. 

 There isn't a manual to this shit. Life is always going to happen. You may not able to control every situation and its outcome, but you can control your attitude and how you deal with. And that right there is the truth about turning 30, or any age, to be honest. 

When I turned 30, I was filled with immense gratitude and joy. Which was the first time for the both of us. I don't think I can remember turning any age and being truly filled with joyous emotions. At 30, I'm optimistic and have a clearer view of  my bigger-picture goals. But hear me out though, I barely know what I'm doing. That's another truth about turning 30. You're not going to have everything figured out and that's okay. Keep living. 

What I do know is that no longer want to operate from a place of fear.  Fear is draining the fuck out of me. So what I have to say to you next is pretty difficult for me, but it needs to be done. 

20-something Folasade, this is letter is really your eviction notice. I have to let you go. I'm ready to spread my wings and soar higher than you thought I could. 

I will always be forever be grateful for you.  Thank you for your strength, your endurance and most importantly thank you for your many lessons. You were an amazing teacher. 

With love, 

30 Year Old Folasade

 

 

 
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