
Since I recently turned 30, I've heard several times, "Don't worry, 30 is the new 20." What? Why would I want to go through my 20s again? Don't get me wrong- I had some wonderful times in my twenties- I met the love of my life, got married, and had my two sweet babies. However, my twenties also had their fair share of insecurities and worries since I tend to be a "people-pleaser."
There are several "wounds" that I carried around from earlier in life and let dictate my responses. One simple example is the manicurist that told me I had "man hands" when I went to get my nails done- of course, he reassured me that I'd leave his shop with "woman hands." Silly, I know. But since that time, I've been a little self-conscious about my hands- not anymore! In this decade, my thirties, I'm letting go of the baggage and the petty worries. So, yes, I've painted my nails four times this past week- including a bright red, and a horrible hot pink. It's an experiment. An experiment with freedom- to unabashedly draw attention to my hands- the perfectly proportioned hands that God gave me.
My mom told me that I'm going to love my thirties. I'm planning on it!