Happy Birthday to Me.

Today is my 30th birthday.

I have been thinking of writing this post for a long time now. I've seen other people's posts and wondered what I would say about my own growth and life. What 30 things could I share with the world. What wisdom I could pass along. What bucket list items I've checked off and which I'm more determined to get to. 

But as I sit here in my hammock swing on my porch, breathing in the smell of lilacs (the only thing I have been able to keep alive in my yard), listening to my chickens peck and scratch, all I feel is a deep sense of gratitude. 

Gratitude for being an adult. Yes, yes, adulting is hard. And turning 30 should be hard. But ya'll, all I can think is: I made it. 

Not to age 30, necessarily. But into who I am right now. 

Because I'm sitting here on this swing, completely ignoring the stacks of dishes needing to be washed, letting go of the cluttered rooms where we just keep shutting the door so we don't have to look at the mess, and remembering when our yard didn't even have grass let alone a lonely lilac bush. 

I'm recalling the shame I let grow inside me for over twenty years. I'm recalling the piles of fears I carried with me. I'm recalling the messy flawed parts of myself that I would just keep shutting the  door on. And I'm recalling the emptiness when I didn't even have self-love let alone gratitude.

I've got this image in my mind, of me in a white dress. I've carried it with me for as long as I can remember and I've always thought that once I had "arrived" I would be wearing this white dress. The image was usually at the beach, me smiling while the wind whipped my hair and my toes sank into the sand. I would be holding a baby on my hip and children would be swirling me searching for treasure. 

It's just how I imagined myself when I was "older." It's the image of who I wished to be. 

Well, this year we had a fancy dinner to attend and I bought myself a white dress. The funny thing is, I'd never even thought of buying a white dress before. (Not since my wedding day.) It was something that was just going to happen- not something I would do. 

It wasn't the flowing white cotton dress in my mind, but it didn't matter, I knew. It was the white dress. 

I have arrived. I am older now. I am who I whished to be.

Not because I have a white dress, but because I went out and bought one. 

I haven't been to the ocean in 10 years, but I'm smiling.
I don't have my dream home, but home is a dream. 
I weigh more than I ever have, but I finally love myself.
I haven't traveled the world, but my words can.
I'm not the perfect mom, but I know how to look for treasures. 

And most importantly, I know how to be grateful for lilac bushes when I always thought I'd have a garden. 

So Happy 30th Birthday to me. 

Happy birthday to the woman who loves herself and the woman who swings open doors and deals with messes (not the house ones-those can wait). 

Happy birthday to the woman who crosses things off her bucket list well before they've been accomplished, to the woman who knows what really matters and doesn't let shame make the calls.

Happy birthday to the woman who bought her own white dress. 

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