Lessons from 9, 19, and 29 on my 39th birthday

Today is my 39th birthday! I can’t believe this is my last year in my thirties. As we get older, time definitely seems to go faster, and approaching the big 4-0 next year has me thinking about time in slices of decades: where were the 9, 19, and 29 year old versions of myself and what would they each think about where I am today?

Nine year old me was in fourth grade. I loved my family and my friends, much like I do now. I look back with such compassion for that young girl, still grappling with the sudden loss of her dad three years before and telling anyone who found out “it’s ok, it was a long time ago!” I always wanted to make everyone else feel better, more comfortable. I played some tennis and ran around my neighborhood and dreamed of being an adult, especially a mom. I had a killer bang. I loved writing even then, and won a statewide writing contest that year. Looking back, I’m less impressed with the winning than I am with the entering of the contest. Let that be a continued lesson for my 39 year old self: keep throwing your hat in the ring.

Nineteen year old me had just transferred colleges, leaving Philadelphia for a suburban state school about 45 minutes from home. At the time it felt like a failure, if I’m being honest. I remember feeling so unsure of what I wanted, and I think it’s because I made a choice that was different from what I had said I wanted and thought I wanted. Looking back now, I realize that even though it wasn’t an easy decision to make and came with a temporary side of doubt, I followed my gut and pulled all the strings I needed to and made a change that ultimately served me so well. I met one of my very best friends (and so many other great people) at my new school, was closer to home to see family (a major value in my life, always), and later that year adopted my beloved golden retriever. :) The lesson from this version of myself must be: deep down, you know what’s best for you. Follow that feeling even when it’s hard.

Twenty-nine year old me was coming home from the hospital on my birthday with my second baby girl. Almost exactly a year before, I had experienced an early miscarriage, and now here was my rainbow baby joining her spunky two-and-a-half year old sister. Bringing her home is my most favorite birthday gift to date. That would prove to be a challenging year, learning how to soothe a colicky baby while entertaining an energetic toddler, while balancing a career in public relations. I took a lot of calls from the laundry room and hustled during nap time, but it was all worth it to me to spend my days with the girls. I look back now and think: wow, that woman had a lot of energy (ha!). But also: wow, I wish I would’ve asked for and accepted more help. And one more observation would be how much can change in the span of ten years!

And now, here we are, at 39 in the midst of a beautiful, full life. I can see that I am still working on each lesson from previous decades, getting better with time and continuously growing. It’s sort of comforting to realize that it’s all an ongoing process, not a check list to be completed. So many questions my younger self would have asked have been answered, so many deeply longed-for wishes granted. I know that girl would be—she is—so proud.

More questions remain, and I’m grateful for that, because it means that there’s still lots of living to do. Cheers to that!