turning thirty.

Everybody says that your thirties are better, and I believe them. Seems to me like the fire inside of you burns steadier, that you care less what other people think. There’s more grace to be had from knowing from experience, instead of having to act strong and guess all the time.

It feels like a very significant birthday to me. My whole life I’ve felt this way, that when I was thirty, something profound would shift. It feels as though all of the changes I’ve made recently are meant to prepare me for whatever is next. Never mind that it’s 2012 and the world is coming undone in all the ways I’ve seen in my dreams since I was little. I’m not scared about the future, but I’m very curious. In a week I move back west again, and let me tell you… not a moment too soon.

My zero birthday, April 23, 1982: I was born at home, with midwives, in the house my mother and I still live in. These are iPhone shots taken of actual pictures, inelegantly. (Put them through an instagram filter and the universe would probably unfurl.)

my brother and sister are excited to meet me. They don't know anything about the future.

My father cuts the chord. it's weird to think that my parents were once married. I'd recognize that silver bowl anywhere. We fill it with lettuce leaves, still.

My mother was 30 years old when she had me. At last, we're the same age.

I think that shadow is my hand, lurking from the future. I don't know what else to say. My mother is so pretty. Last night, she made me a raw vegan carrot cake.

Look. I don’t weep, do you?

 

 

5 thoughts on “turning thirty.

  1. Molly, I totally cry, I am crying now. This is just beautiful. Thank you for sharing. Happy Birthday! I made you a salad, it’s on the dining room table waiting for you.

  2. I held it together all day… all through looking at that photo album… through my mother’s copious weeping… everybody being sweet to me on facebook…

    and then just a minute ago my brother texted to tell me that he and my sister pitched in and got me a buddhist monk pen pal from India, and I lost it. my mother and I just got done sobbing and eating raw vegan carrot cake. what a day.

  3. something “clicked” for me when I turned 30 last year. could’ve been the antidepressant…who knows? still, i know what you mean. cheers to you, Molly!

  4. I just saw this just now. Beautiful.

    Also – you share a birthday with Shakespeare and (possibly) Cervantes? I think that’s pretty cool.
    And ‘zero birthday’ – never thought of it that way before.

    I await 30 (next year) with interest and hope for the grace too.

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