I’ve recently turned 30 years old. It’s weird writing that. It’s weird saying it and hearing it. I’m 30 years old. Three decades of existence. It kind of sucks, just because I don’t have anything to show for it compared to most other people around my age. They have accomplished the things I’ve attempted for a long time. I’m trailing behind people who have started their careers in their twenties, married, have kids, have a home. I wanted all of these things before I was 30.
I suppose I have accomplished other meager goals that would be considered admirable by some. I’ve put myself through two colleges, lived in three different major cities and have done a decent amount of traveling. These things, not very brag worthy as far as I’m concerned, but I feel they’ve made me a little more well-rounded than others. I get to add those life experiences to all of the book smarts and skills I’ve picked up over the years that aren’t very marketable.
Out of all of my twenties, however, I do have one great thing I can be proud of, and that is the relationship I built with my fiancé. Coming up very soon, we will have been together for four years. And as she helped me realize, I shouldn’t feel bad about having turned 30, because 30 is the age we will get married and purchase our first home.
So, here’s to starting a new chapter in my life and sharing it with my future wife, and hopefully, being a little more financially successful.