Turning thirty felt like a milestone I had so many mixed emotions about. Part of me was excited about this new chapter and all it would bring. Another part of me… quietly panicked. Because if I’m honest, I thought I’d feel more solid by now. I thought I’d be “there” or wherever there is supposed to be. Also a little secret…. Not anymore though lol I have always been afraid to turn 30. My mom passed when she was 31. So, I always thought I was cursed to the same fate….. turning 30 to me was exciting, yet scary as hell.
Safe to say though. I had an amazing birthday weekend filled with friends and so much love. It helped me come out of my feeling of going to die and feel free again. Like I wasn’t afraid of what my 30s would hold anymore. I knew on Monday after my birthday I was going to take over the world! – I had started at a new brokerage the week before and I was super excited. Ready to start chasing after my career the way I knew I wanted and needed. I was going to get back to working out, being healthier and growing stronger.
Instead, on Sunday, which was my actual birthday. I ended up going to hard to my favorite band Iration… and safe to say, don’t wear Birkenstock’s to a concert if you will be jumping up and down multiple times. You will roll your ankle inside of your shoe. Literally couldn’t of been more perfect ahaha. Just kidding. I woke up on Monday and wouldn’t you know it. I couldn’t walk, drive or even get out of bed. My ankle was the size of a giant golf ball.
I was so mad at myself. I had planned to be starting my thirties off right but instead I ended up couch bound for a week.
It was like life said: If you won’t slow down, I’ll do it for you.
And so, there I was, in pain and out of my mind. I felt so disconnected from my body and myself. I am a very active girly and when you are couch bound it truly changes your perspective on things.
the first week was brutal. I canceled things. I sat with stillness. And at first, it made me restless. I hated the quiet. I hated not being “productive.” I hated not managing to push through. But in that forced pause, something began to unravel and something else began to emerge. I realized I wasn’t failing. I was going through a rebirth. A change.
I was shedding my past self
It wasn’t just the ankle. It was the identity I’d been clinging to.
The overachiever. The hustler. The fixer. The girl who gets up no matter what.
I was letting go of the belief that I had to be “on” all the time. That healing had to look graceful. That turning thirty had to feel empowering.
The truth is, turning thirty didn’t feel like a rebirth at first.
It felt like grief.
Grieving who I thought I’d be by now.
Grieving the plans I’d made that didn’t come to life.
Grieving relationships, mindsets, and dreams that no longer fit.
Grieving another year without my parents.
But there’s also grace in that grief.
There’s power in the in-between.
Because it’s here. In the small spaces between who you were and who you’re becoming.
We’re not taught to sit in this space. We’re taught to bypass it, push through it, or numb it. But turning 30 with a limp taught me that sometimes the most sacred growth happens when life slows us down long enough to feel everything we’ve been running from. Only you couldn’t run or even walk from it now. You had to feel it to overcome it.
I don’t have everything figured out and maybe I never will in the way I thought I was supposed to. But I’m more in tune with myself than I’ve ever been. I’m learning to honor the seasons of stillness, not fear them. I’m beginning to trust that slowing down isn’t failure. It’s sacred. It’s protection. It’s preparation. For the new you.
So if you’re reading this and you’re feeling the tension of not being “where you thought you’d be”…
Please know:
You’re not broken.
You’re being softened.
You’re not falling behind.
You’re being slowed by grace, so you can rise with purpose.
This isn’t the end.
It’s the beginning.
—
Here’s to 30.
Not perfect. Not polished.
But more honest, more whole, and finally, more me.
xoxo, alli ❤
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