When I was in my 20s, I never wanted to turn 30. Maybe it was because I felt like I really hadn’t accomplished much at that point. I wasn’t married. I didn’t own my own home. No kids. And all 3 of those things seemed so far on his back burner, I felt like it would never happen. Then we went to Vegas with some of my girlfriends for my 30th birthday and something in me changed.

I don’t know if it was the secret 9+hr tattoo of Satan that cost more than the engagement ring I picked out…okay it wasn’t really Satan, but if you saw it – it was pretty fucking evil…or if it was the fact we barely spent any time together. We shared one meal together – just the two of us – the entire time in Vegas. We had “dinner” at 1:30am by random chance at our hotel. He happened to be there when I text him after a show. Romantic, right?

Maybe it was the Seattle Airport incident. The girls and I went to grab a quick bite to eat and a glass of vino before our flight back to Edmonton. Again, he was doing his own thing. When we heard the overhead page for pre-boarding, we finished up and went to find him. We assumed he’d be waiting for me/us at the gate but he was nowhere to be found. I tried calling, texting, BBM-ing him….until finally I received a response of “I’m already on the plane.”

Already on the plane. Thanks for waiting?

When we got back to Edmonton it didn’t take long for me to really see how unhappy I was. I realized I was making excuses for him and starting to believe the excuses he was feeding me. I never questioned his love for me but I think he truly undervalued and unappreciated me. I tried to make it work, but inevitably moved out mid-May.

I didn’t think I’d be ready to move on so quickly after such a long relationship (nearly 6 years) – but it really wasn’t long before I was ready to date. I didn’t want a relationship. I just wanted to date casually – have some fun – and truthfully, to see if I still “had it”.

I dated casually until about a month later. I reconnected with my high school crush. I wish I could find my old binders and notebooks – because there were definitely hearts with our initials in them. And I know I wrote about him in my boy-diary. Yes, I had a book solely dedicated to the ones who stole my heart. I was really boy-crazy. It drove my mother nuts. Our first date was wonderful. I was open and honest about what I wanted and my deal breakers. So was he. And at the end of the date when he walked me to my door and kissed me goodnight….the world stopped. It IMG_20160320_160701[1]was the best goodnight kiss I’d ever experienced. And I think I knew in some way, that 30 wasn’t going to be so bad. It turns out, I was right. This year turned into some weird catalyst for enjoying life. I moved into my own apartment. An apartment that kinda sucks but it’s my own space. I stopped tracking every crumb that went into my mouth and started eating more mindfully. Took control of my consumer debt. Put myself first and left my work family for a new job within the organization that will give me a Monday-Friday life. I’ve stopped caring what people think about me. I’ve even started calling people out on their bullshit instead of biting my tongue. It’s quite a liberating experience!

Three days ago, I turned 31. It’s been quite the year, but I feel like it’s really only just begun.

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