Fulfilling Year 30

I'm one month away from fulfilling year 30. I thought 30 years old sounded old but geeze, 31 is legit. Official. Sealed. That's okay though. Year 30 has been the best year yet. I know, big statement. I've finally arrived at a happy place in life. I'm single and having fun (maybe a little too much). I finally make enough money to enjoy a nice dinner out with friends and maybe even splurge on a pair of shoes in the same week. I'm beginning to love that I have this moment in time to live on my own. I learned, the hard way, that I am happy with my job, for this point in my life. I am more self-aware than ever: I'm still damaged but at least I know it and that helps me to confront why I am (something I didn't possess 5 years ago). To my surprise, I discovered that I'm still a party girl at heart (not a grandma like I tried to convince everyone for a minute) and I should never suppress that part of me ever again. Not for anyone. Even when I have children, we will dance. I still haven't found the man of my dreams or whatever the F you call it when you meet someone you're willing to compromise your life for, but then again I haven't really tried. Maybe year 31 is when I'll have my epiphany about relationships, the same way I had my epiphany about getting old: that it doesn't have to be a bad experience. We'll see. I have recognized that this is the one time in my life that things will be this simple, even if it doesn't seem so at moments. I am starting to believe that my hard work has achieved great accomplishments (w/ a therapist's help of course), but ultimately, I am grateful for the privileged life I have, no matter how screwed up I think I am. I'm probably more scared now turning 31 than I was turning 30. But only because of what I think other people's expectations are from me. For the moment, I am going to party my 30 year old ass off, right into age 31.