30.

My childhood mothered me.

My teen years misguided me.

My twenties mended me.

My thirties will...

Around this time each year I strive to do a bit of self-reflection in preparation for my upcoming birthday. This March I will hit the 3-0 milestone, and even though each and every birthday is worth celebrating, this year in-particular is notable to me. I have heard many people in my inner circles suggest that birthdays are "just another year" with nothing but a scoff and eye-roll to follow. I assume their feelings were meant more towards the festivities and expectations that naturally come with birthdays and not the overall significance of another year passed, but it's disheartening to hear nonetheless. Birthdays growing up were always met with a great deal of attention, so for as long as I can remember, my siblings and I were greatly acknowledged and highly celebrated on our special days. It wasn't about making it a spectacle as much as an intentional day spent partaking in whatever version of fun we aspired for at the time, whether that was our favorite homemade dessert, visit to the arcade, or sleepover with our closest friends. The memories made always exceeded the joy from any tangible item, and as I matured, the gratitude, appreciation, and humility that came with "another year" of age held tremendous weight. I gladly welcome a another number with open arms, like a new acquaintance I'm eager to intimately know, and I find incredible freedom in the things I cannot control. The natural progression of life can be equally beautiful as it is frightening, and the older I get the more unbalanced that scale becomes to favor the first. This year in-particular as 29 comes to a head, it's a sentimental farewell. 

I've tackled the importance of self-awareness in past posts and the dangers in degrading our own character by avoiding to understand it. Before we can take control of our emotions and behaviors, we need to embrace our pasts to understand the factors that made us who we are. I sat down recently with a new friend, and we tackled the topic of the human condition, and the factors in our lives that determine our actions and reactions to the countless things we face on a daily basis. We talked about everything from childhood, to family dynamics, to trauma, to personal struggle, and the significant way each and every one of those factors shapes our character for better or worse. I think back to 19 year old Courtney, and the complete stranger she is to me now. If only she could've comprehended her inner workings, her rampant insecurities, and overly-controlled state of misery. I wish she  could've understood the significance of age 8 when serious health issues introduced her to anxiety, age 11 when the bullying began, 13 when trauma demeaned and manipulated her to think she was now defined by it, age 16 when she believed the lie that her worth was found by the numbers on a scale,  age 18 when the false rumors were spread, and age 20 when she finally found the strength to book that first therapy session because she could no longer silence the voices in her head. It was there under the florescent lighting and tear soaked carpet I was introduced to a wild new concept: self-reflection.  Instead of dissecting who I had become and why, I had been white-knuckling a fantasy of who I wanted to be, with little to no effort to support it. In the nine years to follow there was a lot of life that occurred and a lot of hard-work to endure, and never was progress instant nor success sudden. It's easy to get caught up in the "why did I's" of our past, or "what if I's"of the future, but what about the "what will I's" of our present? For years (yes, years) I had to sort out my mental maneuvers moving forward, retraining my brain to respond on logic rather than react on emotion, which helped rid me of crippling anxiety, and the overwhelming urge for fight or flight. For a number of years I was paralyzed with fear when it came to storms, to the point that I would curl into fetal position and shake uncontrollably as if the house was caving in on me. I'm not entirely sure where the fear stemmed from initially, but it was brutal. This lasted throughout my adolescence up until the age of 15 to which I remember my brother and his friend goofing around on the back porch one evening while a roaring storm front rolled in. The wind was thrashing the trees as if they were about to snap, while thunder crashed in the distance, growing louder with each break. Meanwhile my brother stood on the deck laughing while he and his friend fought against the wind, trying not to fall to the ground. I remember thinking "My brother is insane!" as he smiled with eyes squinted and shirt aggressively flapping as the sky released a flash of fiery light "How could he be so stupid!". He came inside as the rain began to fall, sat next to me and said "The most power you can have is accepting something you can't control".  I just remember sitting there frozen thinking how obvious yet profound those words were in that moment, and it's something I've whispered to myself throughout the years in times of worry. I am now a mother of two girls, one of which is very anxious and experiences the same fears as I once did, including storms. Motherhood is very humbling in that way. It's as if a mirror is being held in front of you everyday showing you the best and worst of yourself, through your children, and giving you the power to change  the course of things that could steal or smother their joy. My children will undoubtedly experience hardships, possibly the very same ones as me, but I have not overcome to forget my suffering, I have overcome to be motivated by my suffering. 

Year 29 has been the year of boldness, the word I chose in a very vulnerable season of life. If you know me well, you'd know I find great comfort in my ability to be frustratingly passive. I wanted to be shaken, challenged, and pushed to do more. The day I turned 29, I had  an eye-opening experience and wrote about the interaction on my Instagram, but wanted to share it once again as a witness to the profound lesson it taught me. 
"While on my way home from a solo getaway in Nashville, my steering wheel suddenly locked up going 70 mph on the highway. Forced to make a quick decision I made an emergency exit and found the closest mechanic shop which happened to be 8 miles away. I arrived at the shop and found out that it'd be at least 4 hours before I could get back on the road. Meanwhile, an elderly man named Larry arrived at the shop to get a tire replaced. He overheard my predicament and introduced himself. He showed concern, seeing that I was a young woman in an unknown town and he could tell I was overwhelmed. After a bit of us talking, he told me he wouldn't leave until my car was fixed. He called his wife Ellen to come and take me to get a bite to eat since I had awhile to wait. She took me across the street to the "fanciest eatery in town", and Larry joined us there shortly after. We sat for about an hour chatting,  eating a delicious lunch,  and some homemade coconut creme cake because they discovered it was in fact my birthday. They insisted on paying for my meal then drove me back to the shop and waited with me several more hours before my car was ready. Offering to pay for the car's expense, and me politely declining, they both gave me the biggest hugs and wished me a safe travel home.  A situation that could've easily and purposefully ruined my day, was intentionally salvaged by two of the most sacrificial humans I've ever met. Their time, money, and comfort were of no concern because they were bold in their conviction to show love to a stranger in need." This experience directly motivated me to be bolder in my convictions, despite my fears or doubts and to follow through with where my heart is leading me, especially if it's scary. There have been many opportunities that have presented themselves the past year, that I likely wouldn't have taken had it not been for  the selfless example Larry and Ellen showed me on that day. I wanted to be a "Larry and Ellen", to as many people as I possibly could. Something changed in me forever that day.

So what will 30 bring? The year of PURPOSE. What is my purpose? Each new year instead of making a list of resolutions, I choose a word to challenge myself in an area I feel lead to improve. This year I'm leaving my doubts in the dust and embracing the gifts I've been given, by passionately  seeking a life full of purpose. My eagerness to pursue my purpose is built upon an unwavering confidence and set of skills I fought through the messiest parts of myself to learn. To the 8, 11, 13, 16, 18, 19 and all the "me's" in-between, I'll never forget ya, but I'm doing just fine without ya.