It’s 2019. I was born in the 80s. 2019 was a year so far away it was inconceivable. It was a year that movies were made about. Movies full of flying cars and genetically enhanced androids that were reeking havoc on the population (or were they?)

It’s 2019. The year I turn 30.

(Insert dramatic pause here. I did actually stop writing and just look at that sentence for a while).

I know that 30 isn’t old, but…it’s no longer young. It used to be that at 30, you were expected to have your life in order. I know that’s not the case any more. People are now only just starting families at 30, whereas before you’d be considered a geriatric mother to have a baby at this stage of your life. When I look around me at my friends in their 30s, they aren’t all married with kids and mortgages and careers all mapped out. Some of them are, but for the most part, they (and me included) don’t have their shit together yet. And that seems to be ok. But still…

I know that 30 isn’t old, but it’s not young anymore either. I’m no longer in my 20s, getting away with being carefree and irresponsible because I’m only 20-something and still have a lot to learn about life. Maybe it’s purely an internal expectation, but by 30 I had thought I would be adulting at an adult capacity. Instead, I’m leaving my job as a Research Assistant and Lab Manager at a prestigious university; binning / selling / donating most of my belongings; stuffing everything else into a backpack that I can barely carry and moving to a new continent that I’ve never been to before, where I don’t know anyone and I don’t speak the language.

Some people call that brave. I’m sure others (though so far, not to my face) have called it stupid. It’s probably a bit of both. I’m equally excited and terrified by the thought of what I’m doing, although I think more terrified now that it’s closer. But for as long as I can remember, at least since leaving home 11 and a half years ago, I’ve wanted to see the world.

It’s 2019. The year I turn 30. I am not yet adulting at an adult capacity. I have no stable home, no husband or even potential long term partner, no babies and no career. I have a backpack and my laptop and I’m going on an adventure! I, however, have my handkerchief, so there’s no going back.

Wish me luck and bon voyage. Or should I say, buen viaje!