30 before 30: Nine Months to Go

Every year I make a list of things I want to do by my next birthday. This year I tweaked the process a bit. Instead of doing 29 things I want to do as a 29-year-old, I'm doing a list of 30 things before I turn 30.  I thought it would be a fun, challenging way to approach the big 3-0 with excitement and purpose as opposed to what many do: deny and cry.

Though I'm not going to make the list public just yet (a woman of mystery am I), I am proud to say that with nine months to go, I've accomplished much more than I thought I would have. I made some seriously ambitious goals and I've actually completed some of them while whittling away at others like a champ.

There is one goal that's currently in the making that I'm particularly nervous about. I think I made the mistake of putting too much of its success on the agency of other people, and people can be fickle.

Regardless, I will make it happen, because it's too important. But it's got me thinking.

My list has become an almost disembodied part of me over the months, in a way I couldn't have predicted. It's shaping me into a person I recognize. A person that I really like.

For the last few years, I've felt a bit buried. So much of my life is merely me reacting to outside stimuli.

I don't live where I'd live if it were entirely up to me. I don't do the work I'd be doing if it were entirely up to me. I am not living the social life I'd like to be (and trying to). I am just pressing forward, doing my best. But...

My list. I love my list. It gives me focus and drive to make things happen, big and small, significant and dedicated,  fleeting and fun.

I am almost 30. My twenties are nine-tenths behind me. I want my year as a 29-year-old to be something I look back on and love to think about.  I want this year to be filled with adventure, calculated risks, and, for the parts I can control, choices that feel like the woman buried beneath my skin.