Thirty-Three: Growing into Myself
My 33rd birthday is on the horizon and we are venturing off on a family trip, three states in total. We are spending a weekend in Tennessee, followed by a week in Virginia, and a day in Pennsylvania to visit my abuela and abuelo. While I am not counting this state; we will also be spending a half day in DC to visit the Smithsonian! The last time we visited my grandparents, my oldest two daughters were 3 months old and 2 years old, this will be a bittersweet but much longed for trip. I’m looking forward to the moment they hold my children again, to see their aged hands in an embrace. Much time has passed but their love remains the same, ever so tender. Watching them hold my babies will feel like generations being stitched together in real time, a core memory in the making.
This year of life feels very grounded and I'm excited to enter thirty three with family travel. It's a bit of a reminder that home is wherever we are together and that we can always return to our roots amid the noise. There is something sacred in this season, perhaps the clarity or being able to sit in a moment without drowning in the noise that a busy motherhood can bring… being able to sit still and savor the senses of it all. My thirties, and I believe I have mentioned this before, have been so good to me. With each passing year I have felt myself fold into this ever evolving version of myself like a fresh cardigan, new but familiar, worn naturally as intended.
I think in our twenties we strive so hard to “be someone”. Our thirties feel intentional and as I step into this next chapter, I feel less urgency and more desire to just be here and now. To witness my life as it unfolds — full of opportunity, magical, deeply meaningful — and to trust that meaning is made in the everyday. The giggles in the backseat. The quiet mornings before the kids wake. The wrinkled hands of my abuela gently holding our newest addition. Thirty-three feels like a gentle nod from the universe: you’re right where you’re meant to be.