04/29/2026
Turning 38 feels so weird. Somehow the “8s” in the decades just do something silly to my brain. Like, at 38, I should be a grownup, have it all figured out, be completely settled into my life or whatever. Yet, I’m still wading through it, learning every day, changing my mind, and re-learning how to play.
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What a bizarre decade we’ve tumbled through. I spend some time wondering where I might be had the pandemic never happened, had we not spent a decade under the thumb of an idiot tyrant. Sometimes I get so angry, my 30’s were not meant for starting over, and over, and over (so I thought). But the thing that does always remain is the change, needing to remain adaptable to a world that can’t seem to sit still. I just want to be slower, in my movement, my thinking, my creating, my wandering.
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A piece of me wants a plan of what I’d like to do before 40, but does it really mean anything different than 39 or 41? More than anything I want to be present, I want to experience things more fully, I want to set this stupid phone down and just make stuff. I want to spend time with my people, keep learning from them, keep being in awe of everything they do.
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I want to keep nesting into this cozy and silly life my husband and I continue to build together. I know no matter what he’s going to cheer me on and believe in all my weird ideas. I want to keep seeing new birds, going on mild hikes, and being a passenger princess in the kayak.
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So here’s to 38 and whatever the hell it throws my way.
