5 things I have learned going into my 30th year

Happy spring, everyone! And also, if I may… HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO ME! 🥳

That’s right—I was born on April 23, 1995, at the ripe witching hour of 3 AM. No guilt for my mom though—she says I popped right out. I was ready for this world.

Now that I’ve had 30 years to thaw out a bit, learn a language, walk, eat, and master the fundamentals of being a “normal” (according to society) human being, unlearn those expectations, and just be okay with being myself—here I am.

And honestly? Can I go back to being an embryo?

This whole life thing is hard. After 30 years of trying, failing, trying harder, failing harder—and sometimes feeling like I haven’t grown an inch—I’m finally realizing that I’ve grown in leaps and bounds. So I’m taking a moment to reflect on what’s real, what’s been hard, what’s been good, and what I’ve learned on this 30th trip around the sun.

1. Actions > Words

Actions speak way louder than words. Period.

I’m not sure what else to say except: stop saying it—start doing it. The people who show up consistently, quietly, intentionally… those are the ones who matter. I want to be one of them.

2. The Best Thing You Can Be Is Kind

Growing up, it was all about being the best. Best at sports, best in school, best at something. But here’s what I’ve realized—I want to be the best at being kind.

Even when it’s hard. Even when I fail (and I do fail). I still try. Every. Single. Day.

Be kind to the grocery clerk. Be kind to your mom. Be kind to the flowers growing out of the sidewalk. Be kind to the barista making your 5:30 AM brew. And most importantly: be kind to yourself.

We talk about loving our neighbor, but we forget we’re included in that, too. When you learn to be kind to you, kindness starts to overflow.

3. The Unconventional Life Path Is a Lonely One

I hope one day this isn’t true. But for now—it is.

When you step outside the mold, society gets uncomfortable. People judge what they don’t understand. And when you fail? They often kick you while you’re down.

When I say unconventional, I mean:

Being your own boss
Starting something from scratch
Moving to a new country
Trying snails for the first time (lol)

People will project their fear onto your courage. But here’s what I hope they know: we’re just like them. Trying to figure life out. We’ve just been wild—and brave—enough to take the leap.

So to my fellow trailblazers: keep going. When no one cheers for you—keep going. When the lights go out—keep going. When the storm comes—keep going. This path has fewer travelers, but we see each other. I see you.

4. It’s Me. Hi. I’m the Problem, It’s Me.

The loudest voice tearing me down? It’s the one in my head.

For 29 years, I blamed others. I assumed the good people were out to get me. That kind of thinking destroyed friendships and damaged trust.

It’s been one of the hardest realizations of my adult life: I have to learn how to talk to my inner critic instead of running from it.

My sister-in-law and best friend Anna introduced me to a concept she calls “The Village.” Inside our heads live many voices—joyful, anxious, sad, insecure, angry. (Think Inside Out.) Some voices shout louder than others.

Anna asked me, “Do you yell back at the mean voice, or do you invite her to the table?”

I said, “I call her names and ignore her.”

She smiled and gently introduced me to see things in a different light.

Now I’m learning to say: Hey insecurity, I hear you. You don’t have to yell today. I’m learning to make space for every part of me—even the ones I’ve pushed away.

5. No Makeup—I Am Enough

Let me preface: I still wear makeup for special occasions, date nights, or wedding days. I love my Ilia foundation and cream blush. But for most of my 20s, I dreaded putting it on. And I only did it to look “put together.”

That pressure wasn’t coming from joy—it was coming from shame.

I’ve struggled with skin issues for years. Rosacea, uneven skin tone, hormonal acne. It’s hard to feel confident in my bare skin. But I’ve started shifting my mindset.

Now? I go to work makeup-free. I go to the grocery store, to church, to the park without concealer or mascara. And every time I do, I’m choosing to believe: I am made in the image of God. This skin—this face—is beautiful. Period.

I’m still healing. Still learning. And I’ll share more about what’s helped and what hasn’t. But even when my skin clears? I want to remember this feeling—that I was already enough without it.

Here’s to the lessons. To the laughter. To the lonely moments and the breakthrough ones.

Thirty feels like a soft arrival and an exciting beginning all at once.

And to anyone who’s still figuring it all out—you’re not behind. You’re becoming. 💛