30.

courtneyzano
Jun 19, 2025
2 min read

I turned thirty on Monday.

I turned thirty surrounded by trees and mountains and water and delicious food and people that love me.

I turned thirty in the presence of nature, millions of years older than me.

What an honor to be part of history, if only for a second, in the grand scheme of time.

Perspective is a powerful thing.

I’ve heard people grumble about turning thirty, about leaving behind a decade spent partying, being worry-free.

I don’t really understand this mentality.

I am so grateful that I made it this far, that I’ve lived to see my thirtieth birthday, when so many before me haven’t.

What an absolute thrill to still be here, living and breathing, far more sure of myself and embodied than I was as a lost girl at twenty—confused, stumbling, white-knuckled to fitting in and being accepted.

In my May Monthly Frequency post I wrote,

“The years between 25 and 30 felt like kaleidoscope years that, in my experience, have blended together into one cluster of self-discovery and expansion. I’m… unbothered about leaving my twenties behind. Excited, even, since it means I’m lucky enough to say I’m still alive. Plus, I generally feel like age is just a number; a way for us to keep track of our lives.”

And it is just that—an arbitrary way for us to understand the construct of time passing. We’re sold the idea that getting older is something to hide—especially as women, we’re told to cover up our grays, to botox our foreheads, to wear Frownies over our deepening lines.

I wish and pray for the day that we can celebrate aging and find beauty in the wisdom of lines and peppered hair.

Maybe I’ll feel differently in the decades to come, but if nature has taught me anything, it’s that beauty is found in the passing of time.

As rivers carve canyons that our minds can’t even comprehend, so, too, does life lived carve stories and wisdom in our skin and bones.

Even in the hard years—especially in the hard years—we are gathering more and more life lived.

And with each year that has passed, I’ve grown closer to myself.

As I’ve stumbled, as I’ve moved states, gotten new degrees, gotten promotions, accepted new jobs, tried new things—I’ve learned lessons about myself and about what kind of life I want to create.

It’s been a journey that hasn’t always been easy, but I’ve slowly learned how to rely more and more on my inner compass and to tune out the external chatter.