…and the tears were prayers for days like these. Life lessons at 30.
In August 2023, I turned thirty. Turning thirty is a significant milestone for most people. It’s a time when people start to make more sense of life, make career changes or get promotions, start families, pursue further education, and make decisions with confidence. However, for me, turning thirty feels like a fresh start. I am nowhere near where I imagined my life would be at thirteen. Back then, I envisioned a linear path where all my dreams would effortlessly come true. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work in a straight line.
During my check-up at the hospital in May of last year, I mentioned to the doctor that I had been experiencing persistent chest pain. This pain had been a part of my life since the age of fifteen, so I was familiar with it and knew how to alleviate it. However, the doctor advised me to follow a particular process in order to seek help. Reluctantly, I dismissed his advice, thinking, “I’m sure it will go away eventually.” In response to my dismissal, he said, “You’re only twenty-nine. You’re very young. You should do as I say, or else you may die.” He then proceeded to tell me a story about a twenty-six-year-old who had died because of heart complications. His words had little impact on me, as I had grown accustomed to living with this pain for most of my life. Death was something I had come to terms with long ago.
But then, he asked me a question that struck a chord within me. “What have you achieved in your twenty-nine years of life that you would be willing to die so young?” His question caught me off guard. Compared to some of my peers, I had not accomplished anything substantial. Illness had plagued my entire life, making it challenging to plan and achieve anything of note. However, I could have told him that my short stories had been published in two anthologies, that I had finally become a university student, and that I was genuinely happy and hadn’t contemplated death in ages. But those words didn’t come out. Instead, I replied, “I’m alive. I made it to twenty-nine.”
In that moment, being a twenty-nine-year-old meant more to me than any achievement, although many might find that a strange thing to celebrate. My health had taken a turn for the worst when I was fifteen, and I held onto the hope that I would eventually outgrow my illnesses and pursue my dream of becoming a doctor. However, as the years went by, I did not improve, and my hope waned. Throughout my twenties, I battled both physical illness and depression. Life felt stagnant, until I started appreciating the simple act of being alive — the ability to get out of bed on tough days, to experience joy, and to share that joy with others.
So, as I turned thirty, I had every reason to celebrate and reflect on the lessons I had learned throughout the years. Here are my top five lessons:
1. Life is long.
When life didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped, I thought it was the end for me. I dwelled on things that did not happen instead of celebrating everything that did. If someone had told me at 20 years old that I would become a published writer seven years later, I would have laughed, as any form of success seemed unlikely. As life changed, I had to adjust. This meant that my goals also had to change. As long as there’s breath in me, I have the opportunity to try new things, fail, try again, quit (yes, quit), and find something else to do however many times I need to.
2. Mourn your losses.
Growth comes with a lot of losses. As necessary as they are (sometimes), they hurt. Living with chronic illness confined me to a life I didn’t want. I had to learn to mourn my somewhat healthy body on days when getting out of bed is difficult or when something as insignificant as sleeping on my left becomes a nightmare. Sometimes, I weep for the times I could run 7 kilometres every other day, but at the same time, I accept that my body cannot carry me that far anymore.
I have had to mourn the life I wanted, the career, and the dreams I wanted to pursue as a little girl. I let myself feel the pain, the disappointment, anger, and grief over what could have been.
Losing friends is one of the hardest things to go through. There are friendships I thought would last forever, but as we grow and our lives change, we drift apart. I have always been the stagnant friend as my illnesses dictate how I live. This means that my life doesn’t progress at the same pace as my peers. This eventually causes strain. What excites me now, my friends accomplished 5 to 10 years ago. The conversations become shorter, despite wishing each other well.
3. Wear that dress.
Over the past two years, I have put on a significant amount of weight. This has forced me to give away clothes. There are dresses I had saved for special occasions which never occurred. I regret not wearing them when I had the chance. I have learned that I have to create the special occasions myself; from having tea under my favorite tree in a beautiful dress to sitting outside under the moonlight, just counting the stars in my favorite hat. Being alive, despite life’s challenges, is special and I should make the most of it.
4. Disappoint people often.
Last year, I decided to stop pleasing people. I took a month off from social media to train myself to be less available. I was exhausted. Some relationships ended, but I was free from putting people first, always listening, even when my world was in flames. Saying ‘No’ often and without guilt has been liberating.
5. Do not give up on yourself.
I live by the Xhosa proverb, “Umzingisi akanashwa,” which translates as “the one who perseveres has no misfortune.” This does not mean enduring pain in the hope of some future reward. It means that the small efforts, including failure and quitting when things don’t work out, to improve one’s situation, eventually lead to great rewards. One thing I am proud of is that I do not give up on myself. I give myself endless chances at life. My current success, such as getting published, winning third place in a writing contest, and studying what I love, did not come suddenly. It is the little steps, like taking a short course to learn a new skill, overcoming my fear of rejection, and sharing my writing, that have led me to the life I am proud of today.
“And the tears were prayers for days like these” was a line that kept tugging at me in 2019. Little did I know that it would create a life where sadness becomes a fleeting moment instead of a heavy burden I carried daily. A life where I now look forward to the next day instead of dreading death. I have made it to thirty! I can’t wait to see what other opportunities life has in store for me.
