Me, with Spider, the tattoo artist
Yesterday I woke up as a 30-year-old.
I didn't feel much different than I did the day before. I was a little surprised by that because so many people, from the clerk at the grocery store, to my friends and relatives had told me tales of how hard 30 hit them.
I was a little excited for 30, the dawn of a new decade. After all, my 20s offered up some spectacular adventures (like marriage and motherhood and a journalism career), but the tailend of the decade was a little rough (divorce, motherhood and losing my job).
I came out of my 20s this week making a commitment to myself: To fully embrace the adventures in store for me in this new decade, let go of mistakes of the past and, No. 1, to put an emphasis on faith and spirituality like I never have before.
For years I had debated getting a tattoo on my birthday -- a crab to represent my sign, Cancer. I thought the crab -- how it skittered backward and side to side to avoid confrontation -- was representative of my character.
Things have changed.
The tailend of my 20s shaped me in a way that made me rethink a lot of things, including giving stock to horoscopes. Yesterday I finally got my tattoo. Still a crab. But only as a reminder that I don't want to be one.
As a reminder to myself to keep moving forward -- confront life. Keep on, keepin' on.
Not to skitter side to side and be afraid or bend backwards, but grab life with my claws, hold on tight to the people and things that are near and dear to me and, overall, trust that God has a plan for me and it's all good.