I turned 30 years old just shy of 2 weeks postpartum. The beach sounds of Jamaica that I had planned on bringing in this milestone year were replaced with my precious baby girl’s cries every couple of hours as she adjusted to the world. They always talk about pregnancy hitting different, but postpartum is a beast of its own. Nonetheless, I got dressed in purple, my favorite color; did my makeup, ate dinner, took some pictures and returned to taking care of my newborn.
Thirty. A decade I have always looked forward to. Symbolically crossing over meant an end to the emotional rollercoaster of my 20s. I am no longer a young adult heartbroken at not measuring up to her dreams. The frustration that seemed to be an intimate part of the last decade is distant. I have forgiven myself for letting fear of failure consume me, robbing me of opportunities to put myself out there. I learned it’s not enough to dream or be talented if you can’t follow it up with the audacity of action. Even more than that, action is just an introductory step. Discipline, consistency, and tenacity are what get you to the other side. Lacking this coupled with a hefty habit of procrastination is a recipe for getting stuck and staying stuck. I carry this reflection close to my heart as I take in this season.
Simultaneously, I am inspired because while parts of the dream are deferred other parts flourished. It’s important that disappointments and negativity do not have a monopoly on the narrative. Especially because a lot of it was God humbling me. If I’m being honest, wrestling with the realization that my plan and God’s plan didn’t necessarily align all the time crushed the control freak in me. Despite my competing with God for His job, He blessed me. Abundantly. I remember the times I didn’t feel I was where I wanted to be. However, after the lesson that God can answer prayers without it being what we imagine, I saw the favor I’d been fortunate enough to experience. The deferred paths exposed me to information and views of life I’d otherwise would have remained ignorant to. The experience equipped me to enter new spaces with confidence, edify impactful conversations, influence decisions, and pour into people in a way that I’d love to do more of.
This decade is dedicated to my teenage self. She is the one who believed in me the most. Her dreams about what I could do were limitless. She never considered that fear, intimidation, and procrastination would be my blockers. So, I want to make her proud, honor her. We’ve done good work already, but there is greater for us to do. At this stage, I know myself, love myself, and am content with all the change that originally left me off kilter.
I am a woman, wife, mother, sister, friend always trying to find balance as an entrepreneur, creative, voice, writer, and dreamer. As a recovering perfectionist I’ve learned to be kind to myself especially in all this newness. Perfection doesn’t always mean progress. Right now, I’m all about that progress. In undergrad, I had a conversation with a career advisor. I’d brought her a list of people I wanted to be like, offering up a perfect combination of my favorite elements of each person. But, today as a 30 year old mama typing this while nursing my baby, I just want to be me, my best self: at peace, fulfilled, doing what I love, building wealth, sharing myself authentically, and dwelling in intimacy with my Creator.
