After a very stressful day last week returning from work, I ran a bath, poured myself a large glass of red wine, made myself a plate of snacks, lit a few candles and logged onto Netflix. I instantly felt better. As I lay in my bath I thought about all of the things that ease my mind when it feels like it’s going to explode one of them being writing, I realised I hadn’t written for ages.
I had drafted some notes a few weeks back with every intention to write soon but as usual life gets in the way and it’s easy to forget about YOU.
I turned 30 back in April. The week before my ‘big birthday’ I had melt a down and found myself crying my eyes out. “Your 30’s are your best years” everybody kept saying to me. “Soon there will be babies!”
We were just coming out of lockdown number 3 with a 6 person rule in place, restaurants were opening up inside the weekend of my birthday, so places were getting booked up. Mike wanted to plan the weekend for me with my family as he and the girls had organised a surprise weekend away the following week. For some reason on the build up to turning 30 all I felt was an un easy feeling, that nothing would be that fun and I spent most the time secretly wishing it was my 29th birthday and 30 was next year when life could hopefully be normal again. One evening, a few days before the big 3.0 I rang Mikes mum crying down the phone. Mike and I had argued over dinner. Mike thought I was being cold towards him and difficult. Looking back I was, I felt frightened, uneasy and full to the brim of unnecessary pressure. “I don’t want to have my birthday this weekend” I blubbered down the phone to Lilly. In her calming voice she told me that it was normal to feel like this before your birthday that it was my retrograde moving… or was my Saturn returning? “You will have the most wonderful birthday, Mike is really excited” she said to me. I thought to myself after the phone call, I need to just look forward to it and stop worrying.
As I should have expected I had the best birthday, I was spoilt rotten by my friends and family. I had a lovely weekend with Mike, my family and the doggies. We stayed in Suffolk, went for a delish dinner, had walks and fish and chips on the beach (in fur coats but it was still sunny) and stayed in a hotel with the dogs. The following weekend Mike and the girls had organised the most incredible house in Shropshire for a few nights and they surprised me with Rosé and Champagne all weekend. We hot tubbed, danced, dressed up, laughed, ate and drank a lot! The sun shined for us, it was glorious. So maybe turning 30 wasn’t so bad after all.
After the the celebrations had finished I thought to myself that 30 after all is just a number… Well it all felt like it went down hill from there.
One stress after another began NO exaggeration. I cried, I panicked, I lost a bit of control. I had a situation where I felt like I was being bullied and I couldn’t do anything about it. The days were becoming exhausting. One day I rang my mum crying down the phone when she was away on holiday (I must make a habit of this) telling her I couldn’t cope, I feel like I’m going to have a break down and I didn’t know what to do. In that week of her being away, I was dealing with some difficult people, I was extremely busy at work and in my cafe and on top of that I had to let someone go. I think it all got a little to much for me and I started thinking if turning 30 meant you have to deal with these things what the hell. I’m sure if I was in my twenties I could run away like a child but no no I had to pick myself up and get through it. After all I’m married now, I’m 30, welcome to adult life. Thankfully in time things started to turn around. Apart from having to deal with every week someone is still getting pinged/quarantining at work so I am re arranging the diary constantly. I have to say it’s basically become the norm now, ergh bugger off Covid already.
As things started to look up I received a call from my dad who told me he was going through some things and asked to stay at mine for a while. Anyone who has followed this journey with me knows things have not necessarily been easy with my dad in the past year, so this was going to be interesting. It turned out he was going through a very bad divorce but things were only going to get worse as I found out. I can’t really go into the details but it got pretty bad and he was in a terrible place. Extremely vulnerable, distraught, hurt, angry… the list goes on. At first it felt strange and I could feel my wall was not breaking down however the worse things got my heart started to ache for him and I started to secretly enjoy being his support. Suddenly roles had reversed (well in normal father daughter relationships that is.) I was now the parent who was caring for her sick child. One night we went out for dinner and he told me that he struggles to read me, that I’m so guarded. I explained I have been hurt too many times by him and he has to earn my trust and I think he understood and respected my words. As things eased off a little he moved in with his brother in Suffolk and in usual dad style I havent heard a peep since! Ohh well it was fun while it lasted.
‘Touching wood immediately’ things have really started to feel better from what felt like months of ongoing drama. I have since celebrated a few friends thirtieth birthdays and had the best time, it kind of feels nice more people joining the club. I spent last weekend partying so hard for our friends thirtieth and loved every single second of being drunk, dressing up and feeling like youngsters which I guess we still kind of are, apart from the hangovers, the hangovers SUCK. I am only just recovering.
Today I spent part of the afternoon in Cambridge Breast Clinic. I found a lump a few weeks ago whilst I was watching a Netflix series as the girl was checking her self so I thought I would do the same. I didn’t worry too much as I know how common it is to find something and my boobs are a little lumpy anyway but this one felt different so I knew it was important to get it checked but I wasn’t going to let it stress me more then it needed to.
As I lay in the hospital bed topless and suddenly aware I had forgotten to wax my armpits, this old male doctor felt my breasts. “Ohh your definitely on the lumpy spectrum” he said as he wiggled around each boob. I was grateful for the mask as I felt like laughing my head off, I wasn’t sure if it was secret nerves or that he was really old and it tickled me. He found the lump I had found so sent me straight to get an ultra sound. The little Philippine nurse who was lovely asked for my date of birth. “Ohh you’ve turned 30 this year” she giggled “I’m soon, and my friend is too.” Yes, that’s me, 30 and currently topless. A few minutes later the Doctor came in applied cold jelly to my breast and showed me on the screen this pea size lump. Although she said that it was probably nothing to worry about, she still wanted to take two biopsy’s just incase. Wow, that hurt. Crikey, I feel like I have been shot in the chest. I asked the doctor a few questions as to why she thinks it’s probably ok and she said mainly it’s my age and not having a family history. Finally being 30 could be a good thing.
The Nurse told me to rest and to not do anything. Mikes gone to play football and to the pub. I did put on half a whiney face to say ‘care for me’ as I’m not supposed to do anything but no chance he knows me too well. So instead I’ve poured myself a large red, cooked myself a lovely dinner and written this, finally!
Moral of the story, yes age is just a number. Don’t turn into that person that spends the whole of their lives worrying about how old they are. Keep getting botox. You can still party (just suffer more) and you can still cry like a baby if you need to let it out. Hello thirties, I think I’m ready for you!
xxx
PeaceLove&Avocados 