30

What now?

What now?

As some of you may recall, I was facing down 30 with some level of sorrow and loss for 22-year-old Carrie who had lost sight of her dreams and passions.  I committed to changing this aspect of my life. Shortly after my 30th birthday, I found out I had been accepted into a Masters program in international crime and human rights. And the cherry on top? The program required me to spend four and a half months in Italy. This was it. This was my chance to redefine my career, to find myself again, and to commit my life to social change. So. I worked out the details with my boyfriend and family. I quit my job. I booked a plane ticket. I had several confusing and frustrating phone calls with the Consulate. I packed my bags. Until. The sponsoring organization cancelled the program one week before it was set to begin. One week.

30

30

I realized this week, as it suddenly dawned on me that I was turning 30, that I am not afraid of aging (I have a really good night cream). I am sad. I am grieving my 20s. I will miss late nights with my roommates snuggled four in a bed made for two. I will miss each of the apartments – even the crappy ones with the unethical landlords. I will miss the feeling of opening a new legal textbook for the first time. I will miss all the firsts that come from a decade of growing up. I will miss all the opportunity and unknown that my 20s presented.