Dirty Thirty

Every birthday I've had after the age of 21 always started and ended in tears... usually some tears shed in between.
But 30, today, has been okay. Better than ok. I've been strangely content. Happy. I am completely at terms to starting a new decade.
I've left behind the naivety and ignorance of my twenties, with the maturity and calmness that I've gathered to use to look forward. Honestly, turning 30 is a fresh start. A blank slate. A new beginning. Whatever euphemistic phrase that makes me feel better; that's what it is.
I have great friends; sure, a smaller circle than what I had in my twenties, but I've weeeded out those that don't belong. I have an amazing man. Someone who understands me and wants to spend the rest of his life understanding me. I love my work; when the 7 hour work day destroyed me, the 12 hour work days actually bring me delight.
Whatever the reasons are, turning 30 is ok.