when i was younger, 30 felt old. not old old, obviously, but old enough that i was pretty sure i’d have my life figured out by then.

i thought 30 was the age where i’d already have a family of my own. a husband, maybe one or two kids, a house, a car. i’d probably be working in some kind of management position, doing well for myself, and somehow still have the energy to come home in my heels and be a hands-on mom.

i actually pictured myself as a career mom.

the kind who helps her kids study, is strict when she needs to be, but still has a good relationship with them. the kind who is ambitious and independent but still very much present at home.

i didn’t really know what it would take to become that woman. i just knew i wanted to be her.

i also thought 28 was probably the age i’d settle down, which is funny now because i’m 30 and... i’m still figuring things out. lol

one of the strangest things about turning 30 is realizing that i don’t actually feel that different from the girl i was in my 20s. i really thought i’d wake up one day and suddenly feel like a proper adult™. instead, i’m just here. still me. just a little more tired. 

there are things about my life right now that younger me definitely would not have expected. for one, i still live with my mom. as the eldest daughter, i always assumed i’d be the first one to leave. i thought i’d be the one who would eventually have her own place, her own household, her own little family. 

instead, somehow, the opposite happened. i’m still here. and sometimes i look at my life and think, huh. i really thought i’d be somewhere else by now.

i thought i’d have my own house. maybe even a piece of land. i’d have a car. i’d be comfortable enough that i wouldn’t have to think too hard about money. that was what “successful” looked like to me when i was younger. not necessarily rich. just... comfortable. having your own things. being able to afford the conveniences you want. not having to think twice before buying something you need.

i don’t have those things yet. and if i’m being honest, sometimes it makes me sad. not all the time. not even most of the time. but sometimes.

sometimes i do wonder how different things might look if i weren’t a breadwinner. if a bigger portion of what i earned could have gone toward building my own life instead of helping take care of the family i came from.

i always knew i’d help my family. i’m the eldest, so that part wasn’t exactly a surprise. what i didn’t expect was becoming the sole breadwinner.

i thought that by this age, i’d be more focused on building a family of my own. instead, a big part of my adult life has been about making sure the family i already have is okay.

and i don’t say that with resentment. it’s just... different from what i pictured.

there are things i thought i’d have by now, and there are also things i thought i’d be ready for by now. like motherhood. i genuinely thought 30-year-old me would already know how to be a mom. HAHA. turns out, the idea of being responsible for an actual human being scares me. like, wait. me? someone’s mom? are we sure?????

and now that i’m actually 30, i’m strangely relieved that i don’t have my own family yet, because i still want to enjoy my life. i like being able to decide what i want to do with my time. i like being able to make plans without having to think about another little person. i like that there’s still room for me to figure myself out.

so yep, i feel behind, but i also don’t want to rush. i can be sad that i don’t have the house or the car i thought i’d have by now, while also being grateful that i haven’t had to become the person i imagined i’d be at 30 just yet. i can look at other people and wonder if i’m late, while also knowing that i’m not actually in a hurry to arrive at the life i thought i wanted.

i think both things can be true.

maybe that’s what 30 feels like for me. exhausting. like a never-ending cycle of trying to figure things out. work. money. family. relationships. the future. what i want. what i should be doing. whether i’m doing enough. but also... more aware. i think i’m much more aware now than i was when i was younger. i’ve lived through things i didn’t know were coming. i’ve become capable of things i never really imagined i’d have to be capable of.

i always knew i’d help support my family because i’m the eldest. i just didn’t know i’d become someone capable of supporting a whole family. and maybe that’s something younger me would be proud of.

i don’t know.

sometimes i think about that girl who thought 30 was so far away. she probably would’ve looked at me and asked:

where’s your house?

where are the kids?

where’s the car?

why are you still living with mom?

and honestly, i’d probably have a lot of explaining to do. 😂 but i’d also tell her that we’re okay. not completely figured out. not exactly where we thought we’d be.

but okay.

i’d tell her that we still want a home. we still want a comfortable life. we still have things we’re working toward. and we’re not actually running out of time, because that’s another weird thing about turning 30.

life feels like it’s moving so quickly.

sometimes i think, how am i already 30? but at the same time, i still feel young. i still feel like there’s so much time. and i think that’s the part i keep reminding myself of.

i don’t have to have everything figured out just because i turned 30. i don’t have to suddenly become the woman i imagined when i was younger.

maybe i’ll have the house someday. maybe the car. maybe the kids. maybe life will look completely different from what i imagined anyway.

for now, i’m still here. still figuring things out. still becoming.

and if i could go back and tell my 25-year-old self one thing, i’d probably skip all the profound advice. i’d just grab her by the shoulders and say: save money, please. seriously. you have no idea.