Three weeks ago, I turned 30.
That’s right, it’s taken that long to come to terms with my new age well enough to actually write about it. I remember being a 12-year old not so long ago; when we lived for the Saturday football games in our concrete stadium which saw too many bruised knees and a chipped incisor. Being 30 felt aeons away. It wasn’t even remotely considered to be a real age. But now it’s here. I’m here.
I could tell you I feel nothing like it (whatever that feeling is) but you’d probably think im just consoling myself.
Guy, you don dey old was a subtle refrain undergirding what turned out to be my busiest birthday yet (left the office at 10pm… I know, I know, I know- what kind of person works that late on their birthday, the big 3-0?!).
Guy, you don dey old.
Like most jokes, its truth dressed in humor. I don’t feel old but I am reminded that indeed, the days are going by. The dreamy eyed kids have become men and there’s no second to waste. The illusion of youth is past and I must embrace it.
As much as I hate the phrase, I guess I have to accept it- I must age with grace.