Singlutionary's 30th Birthday Eve

I am writing this in the last 45 minutes of my 20s.

Over the past few years, I've gone through a wide range of emotions about turning 30, especially while single. Some of these feelings surprised me: I didn't know that certain insecurities or desires existed until I felt like the chance for them was drawing to a close.

Two years and some odd months ago, I was in a relationship which seemed like bliss for about two months and then unwound into months of turmoil. During the good times, I remember thinking: "I will be married by the time I'm 30 after all." I was surprised by how relieved and proud I felt. In marrying before 30, I would be accomplishing something that everyone could understand. Through marriage, I would prove to the world and, more importantly, to my family and friends near and far that I was worthy of undivided love, that I was attractive, sexually vital and successful in the most basic human way. I would be a good person, a good woman and by extension, a good friend, niece, daughter, cousin.

I had never realized how alienated I had felt from my friends and from most of my family because of my typically single status. I never realized how much people people worried about me, even pitied me because they felt something essential was missing in my life. I had no idea how much I had internalized this feeling.

When I thought that I would be married within the conventional timeframe, I felt, for the first time ever, that I had some kind of magic ticket to normalcy that I had always yearned for but had never been given.

At that time I was still only 27.

Since then, I have mulled over my fear of turning 30 and have come to face this new decade (now only 31 minutes away) with excitement and relief instead of fear and angst.

My late 20s were not easy. They were full of career failures, financial struggles, personal loss and general confusion. In many ways, it won't be hard to say goodbye to the consternation and frustration and grief of recent years.

And I'm not 20 anymore and I know things about the world. I have experience -- lots of it. And experience is something that can never be taken away from me. I've survived things that I never thought I would have to face.

I had a crisis just a few months ago when I first began to consider setting out on the long road towards a PhD. I realized that by choosing to commit the next 7 years to academic life, the opportunity to have biological children very well might pass me by. At the time I was slightly involved with a man who very much wanted wholesome biological children raised on milk and wheat bread. I mentioned my potential PhD aspirations to him during our last real phone conversation. Two weeks later he flippantly bowed out of our travel arrangements and said something about incompatibility. And that was it.

In the past 10 years I have learned that in choosing one thing, I am also NOT choosing so many others. Spending most of my 30s in school may very well end up being a choice against having a kid that carries my genetics although it doesn't eliminate my chance to be a parent.

And I am OK with that. If being pregnant and giving birth to my own spawn was super important to me, I would have chosen so many different ways to spend my 20s. I've always wanted to adopt older children and I've always known that by doing so, I can buy myself some time against the generation gap: If I am 40 and adopt a 7 year old, the generation gap isn't quite as huge as it would be if I gave birth at 40.

I am no longer afraid of being an old maid. I know that I will have companionship. And I know that it will be unconventional. I've lived my life out of order and upside down and I can't expect to suddenly grow up and start doing everything the typical way. The typical way has never made sense for me. Its not going to start making sense just because my looks and fertility are starting to fade.

I have a rich life and many talents. And I am going to use them. If nothing else, I am going to live life on my own terms. My 20s were about figuring out what I wanted to do. My 30s are going to be about doing it.

To actually realize my dreams instead of just dreaming them is at once exhilarating and intimidating. But that is where I'm headed.

I've got 9 minutes left. And then I'm ringing in the next decade of wonderment.

A Fresh Start, Single

As promised, I am back to writing in the new year! Welcome to 2010!

Not only is this the first year of a new decade, it is also the last year of my 20s. I will turn 30 in about 10 months. This fact didn't bother me too much until I went home for Christmas.

I love going home and I am blessed with a loving and supportive family. My parents are completely accepting of my uncoupled life.

But I think that others are beginning to find it strange. After all, I am almost 30. I am getting old. Pretty soon I won't be able to have children. Do I have any prospects?

My age, coupled with the fact that I am still unemployed makes me out to be somewhat of a pity case in the eyes of some relatives. They are not trying to be assholes; they are genuinely concerned for me.

But I've never lived life according to the pattern. I've always broken the mold. And going home for Christmas this year, I realized, for the first time ever, that I have ALWAYS been the black sheep.

I find so much value and joy in my life. I am happy and, despite current financial strain, I feel secure. Unfortunately, my joyfulness and security doesn't translate back home. Only my parents (who have actually visited me) see the value of my life here.

It is sad somehow, to realize that my own precious and amazing life, when viewed through the eyes of my extended family, is something of concern, something to fret about.

Until now I haven't felt much societal pressure to couple and marry. I've pressured myself because I felt that it would make social interaction with my coupled friends easier or because I thought it would alleviate various other stresses in my life (which I learned it would not). I no longer feel any self-pressure to couple. But I am beginning to feel it from outside in the form of the well meaning queries of loved ones and their stories about their friends, the moral of which always seems to be: "Don't give up hope, you can still get married and have children, you still have some time left".

The great thing is that I don't go home very often. Instead I live in a city where I have always felt accepted and where I have a network of coupled and uncoupled friends who are supportive and appreciative of who I am and see me as a whole person with a life worth celebrating.

If I had never left my home state and had stayed amongst these same people I would have never have gotten to know myself. Part of the problem is that my life in my old city was filled with relationships with people who did not understand me, who had expectations of me that I did not have of myself. It is not their fault that they have a different world view. It is not their fault that they can not comprehend, even now, who I am or what I am doing or how I could be happy living the way I do. These are intelligent, loving people. But there is a narrowness to their thinking. Moving to a new city gave me space for new friends and to establish new relationships with people who are more like me. I am sure there are plenty of kindred spirits back where I come from but my life out there was too full of existing relationships for me to meet them.

So if you're single, give yourself a fresh start this year. If you've wanted to move but were afraid to do so, reach out to this online community for moral support and take the leap. (It is much harder to move once you're coupled.) If, for whatever reasons, you need to grow where you're planted, make a fresh start in another way. Take a class or go on a solo roadtrip. Or just try a new grocery store or a new brand of toothpaste.

The Singlution is back in business in 2010. My fresh start includes posting Monday-Friday with homeowner and do-it-yourself advice, single blogger and single resources profiles, giveaways, personal stories and more.

Happy New Year to my fellow Singlutionaries!