This plucky, red-haired, 6pd 12 oz baby (photo taken several months after birth, right before her Christening) just turned 30.
I have left my 20s behind, for good; while this makes me sad in certain respects, I am actually not as depressed about it as I thought I would be. Six months ago, I was predicting brown paper bags and a lot of Cognitive behavioral therapy to get me through. Not so, now.
However, if I do have a freak out about getting older – which is entirely possible – I hope you all will hold my hand and say everything will be okay. Or slap me in the face and say snap out of it. But do it gently.