I went to bed last night and my hair was brown. When I woke up I looked in the mirror and noticed it was a little grey. As the day progressed, I passed by mirrors and noticed it became more and more silver until I was completely grey. All in one day!
This of course was a dream. Luckily, I didn't literally turn in to an old lady overnight. But maybe symbolically...
I have a lot of thoughts about this birthday. When I was "younger" I felt like 30 was OLD. I took pride in my youth, as if it was a carefully cultivated character trait I had developed or maybe even an innate goodness I had always possessed. I would accept the comment, "You are so young!" as a compliment. Now I look at the "young" people I know and it feels weird to think they must look at me and think about how old I am.
With this faulty pride, I am surprised by my response to the big 3-0 (even if my dream showed some innate insecurity about it I didn't realize I was feeling). At first I admit thought it was pretty miserable. Despite my continued brown hair, 30 felt sore, tired, headache-y.
And then I got out of bed.
I guess I can't blame my butt kicking at the gym yesterday or my late night on my new age.
But now I feel pretty optimistic. I see great things ahead of me in my 30s. Residency graduation. Children, hopefully (even though it is a little icky to think about being one in the "advanced maternal age" category). Getting in shape. Becoming a better housekeeper. Re-learning some old talents (piano...). Enjoying friendships. Spending more time with family. And all with relief that I have a good 10 years before I have to face 40. Okay, just kidding.
On a separate birthday note, I am feeling a little nostalgic. This isn't the first birthday I have celebrated "alone" without my sister, Amber, but I am noting the solidarity of this one. I'm wishing this year we were sharing a cake, even though my mom was always good about making sure we each had our own, even they were exactly the same (you can't get away with a whole cake yourself when you are 30). Which reminds me of a story from college:
I had a roommate who was getting married. She found out another girl from back home was getting married within a few weeks of her wedding. She was unhappy about this and told me, "It's like stealing someone's birthday!"
She was unfortunately venting to the wrong person. I didn't have a lot of sympathy for that argument.
So Amber, do you want to steal my birthday again?
I wish we could share our golden birthday in body and not just spirit. And I found it surprisingly embarrassing to be sung to alone. I guess I am usually focused on singing to you, too.
And the last I have to say,
Thank you Facebook for encouraging me to say hello to Amber Jackson Collins for her birthday.
I almost forgot!