I remember the night before I turned 10.
I was in my bed, on my back, staring at the ceiling. I went to bed early back in the day (still do, these days), and was not tired at all. Birthdays, at that young age, are magical. The expectation of no chores, what gifts I might receive, what the next day might hold.
Because I went to bed early, the room was still a little bit light. Or maybe it was my imagination; I don’t know (I was a strange child). From my bed, I could see the outline of a giant 9 on my wall. The trashcan in my room, combined with a picture frame on the wall made a giant shape of a 9 on the wall.
I stared at that 9 for a long time that night.
What would ten be like? What would my teen years be like? What would happen; what life changes would be going on? What would that decade hold for me?
So many questions ran through my young mind, and I thought until late, late in the night when I finally fell asleep.
Tomorrow I turn 30.
Thirty. It’s the age that brings with it an existential crisis; the fear that life is slowly (or quickly) passing one by. The year that leaves a decade behind. It’s the end of an era. A lot of those same questions that plagued 9 year old me still run through the mind of 29 year old me.
What will my 30s be like? What will happen? What life changes do I face? Will this be the decade where I marry; when I have kids? Questions I never thought I’d wonder run through my head: what country will I even live in?
I come down to the same thing that I found comfort in when I was 9. I’ll not have answers to any of these questions until, 10 years from now, I take time to reflect on the ways that my life has changed in the past 10 years.