By the time you are 30…

As a child, I injured myself a lot. No kidding, I basically wore a bandaid on my knee as a fashion statement. My grammer school PE teacher (sidenote: He used to call me “Fräulein Weißfrau”, which means “white woman”. My last name Schwarzmann means Blackman and he said he could not bear looking at me, meaning the pale blond, girl and call me by my last name) always ensured me that “by the time you are 30, your wounds will be healed”.

In High School, “by the time we are 30” was basically our terminal value calculation, because there was no horizon beyond 30, except for old.

During my early twenties, by the time I am 30 meant that I will have a lot of, if not all the answers, to many questions prevalent in my twenties: What do you want to do? Where will you live?

Well, that time is here now. I am 30! Instead of still seeking definitive answers to questions that can only be answered impermanently, I embrace the questions, grapple with the insecurities and enjoy the surprises. Yesterday, I took the time to simply be in my beautiful Boston, stroll through town and talk a lot with the people that are important to me.

My family sent me this. I am attaching it just so you see, the nickname is a real thing :-)

My family sent me this. I am attaching it just so you see, the nickname is a real thing 🙂

And, guess what? By the time I am 40 I want to look back and be able to say that I have always managed to take enough time for the people that are important to me, wherever on this planet they are.

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