I recently told a friend that I felt like a plastic bag floating in the wind. Untethered, desperately trying to hold on to something but intrinsically aware that I am not in control. We were discussing age. The conversation on everyone’s lips these days seems to be: how are we about to be thirty? My peers are questioning if they did enough in their twenties, if they did too much, and how they will relay that to their future partner, if they feel younger than they are or if the number is starting to feel childish the closer they get. Funny enough, when describing how I felt, I clarified that that feeling is completely detached from the concept of age. It is simply where I find myself in the present moment, regardless of the fact that two months from today, I will no longer be 29.

In the grand theater of life, we often find ourselves cast in supporting roles, tirelessly propping up the brilliance of others while our own light flickers in the background. It's a familiar narrative, one many of us can relate to all too well, including yours truly. But as I journeyed through my own story, I recently came to a dawning, yet inherently terrifying realization: it's time to rewrite the script and step boldly into the role of the Female Main Character that has always been within each of us.

Over the past year, I've traversed a winding road, navigating through multiple job changes and unexpected health challenges. I severely herniated a lumbar disc and suddenly found myself bedridden for six months and counting, a far cry from where I expected to be at 32. (Psst, Taekwondo, you owe me a spine! “That’s what I get for trying new things as an adult,” I’d thought.)

As a single woman in my late twenties, I often find myself torn between the allure of adventure and the comfort of stability. I am frequently dreaming up my next move halfway across the world while simultaneously envisioning a life near my family and friends with a cutie husband. The desires for both are in constant tug-of-war in my mind.

While I daydream about these two different versions of my life, I try to remain present in the life I have chosen. However, the ever-present ticking time bomb looming over me as I approach my thirties acts as a constant reminder that my life is not exactly how I envisioned it to be, and I only have so many more months left to figure out my life according to the world.