I asked you to tell me about your 29th year: milestones, memories, whatever comes to mind. These are your responses, condensed and edited for clarity.
I remember being nine and thinking: I can round up to 10. Same for 19. I'm BASICALLY 20. That’s what I anticipate for 29. Instead of holding on to my 20s, I’ll sooner round up to my 30s. It used to be pride. Now I think it’s preparation. I’m ten. I'm 20. I’m 30.
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My 29th year will be the first year I enter as a mother, the year my sister marries the love of her life, the year we get chickens and plant a bigger garden.
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We met when I was 29.
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I had to wrestle with being single at that age and defend myself that I wasn’t a lesbian. We’re born into these expectations and in the South, I was not following protocol. I never wanted to follow protocol so it was a new found freedom. When I leaned into who I was.
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It was very dark. Dominated by *****’s gaslighting, fertility anxiety, frequent drunkenness, and breaking a lot of emotional bones to reset them.
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Living on Avenue Kleber in Paris. Working on the Place Vendome where my office had 20 foot ceilings, beautiful fretwork, and overlooked the Place Vendome and the Ritz Hotel directly across the street. Taking the subway to work to the Tuileries stop, walking down rue de 23 Juillet to the Place du marche St Honore to access my building, 16 Place Vendome from the back entrance to which I had a rare key as a tenant. Stopping for an espresso and croissant or pain au raisins at Le Rubis, a small café patronized by truck drivers delivering produce and game to the neighborhood specialty food stores. I stood at the bar drinking my coffee while they drank “un rouge” or glass of red wine. At 8:30 AM. Developing business with French clients, speaking French. Watching French television. Going to French movies. Entertaining clients for lunch almost daily. All but one drank wine with their meal, something I had to join them in doing. Getting to know other expats, from the US and UK, women in banking. Dating a young man from Syria named Jihad who was a medical resident in Tours and visited Paris on weekends. Very sweet person. Attending the American Cathedral on ave Georges V, an Episcopal church. Joined the flower committee and arranged the flowers in the church monthly for the Sunday mass. Joined the Foyer Dinner group which was small groups of members who hosted dinners in their home for up to 10 members total, taking turns doing so monthly. Walking walking and walking on weekends. Going shopping. In sum, discovering Paris, growing my network of contacts, adopting French customs, finding my way.
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I love it. I feel giddy about this year pre-30.
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During my 29th year I had a 2 year old son, I was teaching full time, and I was commuting 40 minutes one-way to work each day. I dropped off my son at the sitter's about 15 minutes into the trip and then went on to work as a Math Specialist in a K~6 elementary school. I was also working a part time night job selling Fine Art (company was Trans Art), at demonstrations in homes, so I could earn additional money we needed to support us in our newly built house in the Pinelands of southern NJ. I also did private tutoring one night a week for a student in a neighboring town and I was Membership Chair of Newcomers, which was an organization formed to welcome new women in five surrounding communities since our general area was experiencing a housing boom. Part of my job was to arrange for evening Newcomer Coffees once a month in a member's home and send the information and invitations to join to local newspapers and businesses. The night of the Coffee, I set up the big coffee urns, plates, napkins, utensils, flowers, etc. in the member's home prior to the arrival of people. I welcomed all to the meeting and introduced the officers and then took a ":back seat" during the evenings proceedings. At the conclusion of the evening, I washed the coffee urns and any other supplies, loaded up my car and headed home, usually about 10:30 at night. And yes, I got up at 5:30 the next morning to get myself and Jonathan ready for the new day of our work/sitter routine. Any free time I had wasn't really "free" because I had to plan lessons for the week, monitor and adjust lessons planned to reflect changes, give demonstration lessons to faculty and staff in math, and twice a month I had to develop, plan and lead the Teacher Inservice for all faculty and staff. Whew! I guess that's about it. Oh! I almost forgot ~ one very important thing ~ every Friday night I watched "Dallas" from 9 to 10 pm and "Falcon Crest" from 10 to 11 pm and then my good friend, Trish, and I would talk for about an hour. We had taught together and had our sons 5 weeks apart in February and March of 1978 but she did not return to work like I did.
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When I will look back at my 29th year it will be hard not to think about my wedding. The build up to the wedding was incredibly stressful, as I imagine most wedding planning to be. We got through it together, although it wasn't always easy as we both had to manage not only each others anxieties, but also the anxieties of friends and family. With that being said, its incredible looking back on the day, thinking about the group of people we had gathered. It certainly wasn't everyone we wished we could've had join, but the small group we had made it so special. I suppose that 29 was also a lot about work and my career for me. I was promoted within my firm and have grown tremendously as a professional and leader within the firm. I had to dedicate a tremendous amount of time and sacrifice a lot of time in my life, time that could've been spent elsewhere. But I love what I do and in my estimation, your late 20s/early 30s are about advancement in your career and setting yourself up for future success.
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My 29th year, ah yes, I remember it well. I harken back to 1929, a year I do not remember at all, yet similar in many ways. 1929 held many "firsts." My 29th year wrapped up a decade of "firsts." Both went by in a bit of a blur, 1929 a complete absence of memory. My 29th year brought huge changes that required huge decisions made after much thought and deliberation. And I was flying by the seat of my pants, keeping my head above water and living each day one step at a time. 1958/59 was a year of reflection and assessment. I had a husband, a mortgage and 4 children. I had RESPONSIBILITY. I had to tie up all the loose ends, establish a clear path forward because 30 signaled maturity, no more excuses for mediocrity. That said, I must acknowledge the joy that filled most days. I was a happy woman; I had a loving, supportive man who walked with me and always had my back, 3 daughters, 1 son (all so precious) and the mortgage was paid each month. I might add my hair was dark brown and curly, my figure slim and all working parts were working. I think I wore red lipstick, too. I was happy then and I am happy today.
Bonus birthday content
This week, Jennifer Epperson, a writer I admire, published her reflections on another passing year. She writes:
In lieu of planning a birthday party, as an adult, I approach my birthdays with reflection. This year is no different. The first half of my 36th year was very different from the second half. My jobs have changed, my aspirations have changed, the people in my life have changed. New cracks of heartbreak have shown up in my life’s shaky foundation, old cracks making themselves newly visible and raw. Kacey Musgraves isn’t lying when she says healing doesn’t happen in a straight line.
I encourage you to read it here. For me, birthdays were all about what’s next. This year, she’s inspired me to reflect, look back. The good, the great, the bad, the horrific, the limits and the freedoms.