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My Life At 30 Years Old

I deleted about four introductions for this article and I still don't know which is the best way to approach the subject.

By Viorel SecareanuPublished about a year ago 4 min read
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This is me after I finished my studies at the university

So I pull a "fuck it" and let my hands flow on the keyboard, let my brain tell me what to write.

I wanted to write about how great it is to be 30 years old, I wanted to write that I don't understand those who complain now that they have reached this age, but instead I will write about myself. Because I rarely write about myself.

Right now, I'm writing sitting on an armchair in front of the mattress thrown on the floor, the mattress that takes the place of a bed. I sleep on the floor, so to speak, and I don't have a chair. I don't even have a table in the kitchen, I don't have a carpet on the floor and I'm sure there are many things I don't have. At the same time, I am as happy as can be. I'm home. I am with my family. I feel fulfilled, I feel good. I can look back and smile.

We recently bought an apartment. It was time to move to my house and I made all possible efforts to be here when I turn 30. Even if the kitchen table comes to me next week, together with the bed. Minor things. But the joy of being at home - in a house that you bought with the money that YOU worked for, is a huge joy. I look around and see everything: my office. I bought it. The closet. I bought it. The curtains, the parquet, the windows, and the last screw in the house… I bought them with money that I worked for. Not alone, of course, but together with Alina. But we can refer to "we" as "I" already. Because we are one, we have a common goal.

Now, at 30 years old, I have reached where I want to be: I have a wonderful child that I can't believe I love so much, that I can't get enough of seeing grow and learn and become a man; I have a wonderful wife whom I love just as much, and who has always been by my side, as they say in the book, for better and for worse; I have a place to call home, a place of mine, a place I've always wanted so much…

(A funny parenthesis: I was just interrupted, while I was writing these pleasant things, by a lady from the Bank who was trying to sell me a very good insurance, in case of death from a car accident, death from illness orif I remain disabled for life. Thanks for fucking up my mood, ha!)

I'm trying to gather my thoughts and I want it to be clear to the two readers of this article that I'm not trying to brag. I don't want to, nor do I have to. I also have my problems, more or less than other people's. There are many others who at the age of 30 are doing much better and have many more reasons to be happy. But today, I don't look at others and compare myself to them. Today I feel fulfilled and happy and that's all that matters.

I'm glad I'm 30 years old. I'm glad that I was an idiot when I was little, that I did all the stupid things possible. I lived my life, so to speak. I did them all. Or at least I did a lot. I was bad, I was good, I was stubborn, I wore horse glasses, and I had an open mind. It was me, like an unconscious storm - like any unconscious young man, because that's how we have to be. And I am extremely glad that I was like that, just today when, at 30 years old, I can declare myself mature.

I'm 30 years old and I'm glad I was stupid. I'm even more glad that I wasn't 100% stupid and that I learned something here and there. I'm glad I did them all and that's why I have no reason to be sad that I'm not doing them anymore. That I don't spend nights in bars anymore, that I don't cry after loud parties drowned in alcohol, that I don't put chemicals in myself anymore and that I prefer to lie down in bed, to watch a movie. That I smile when I see two old people on the street holding hands. That I'm already starting to not understand the 20-year-olds anymore. That, finally, I'm growing up too. It's normal. I accept this and I'm glad it suits me like a glove. I am no longer a child, I have experience, I know what I want, I fight to get it and I no longer depend on anyone. At least not to the same extent that we depended on it 10, 15, or 20 years ago.

It took me 30 years to grow, make mistakes, learn, experiment, and discover so many things about myself. To find out who I am and who I want to be. From now on, I'm starting to work on getting there and I hope with all my heart not to stop growing, making mistakes, learning, experiencing, and discovering. And, I hope, to always be as happy as I was on my birthday when I turned 30. I fulfilled them and felt fulfilled.

And now a new stage begins.

Bad habitsChildhoodDatingEmbarrassmentFamilyFriendshipHumanitySchoolSecretsTabooTeenage yearsWorkplace
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About the Creator

Viorel Secareanu

I share thoughts on photography and life, mostly lessons learned around things I’ve been dealing with the last few years, managing time, finding focus, and being happy.

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you find something inspiring here!

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