Thirty.

A number that once felt distant. Too adult. Too composed for someone who used to panic over small decisions. And yet somehow, this year, I lit thirty little candles in my heart—not to celebrate, but to remember.

Life Doesn’t Follow a Map

I used to believe life had a fixed itinerary: graduate, get a job, marry, buy a house, and keep going. But turning thirty taught me something essential: life isn’t about being on time—it’s about staying alive in your own time.

So many plans fell apart. People came and went. Some dreams dissolved. But somewhere between the chaos and quiet, a version of me began to grow. Slowly. Silently. But surely.

The Quiet Strength in Tiredness

At thirty, I finally understood that tiredness isn’t always defeat. Sometimes, it’s a sign of healing. A sign you’ve tried. I used to chase everything—faster, higher, louder—until I forgot how to breathe. But this age invited me to sit down, to listen. Not to prove anything anymore, but simply to admit: I’m allowed to rest. I’m allowed to not have it all figured out.

Of Friends, Love, and Loneliness

Thirty shrinks your circle, but deepens your bonds. I no longer need to be everywhere. I just want to be where it matters.

Love, too, has changed its form. It’s no longer about the sparks, but about the stillness. It’s not about fireworks in the heart, but peace in the soul. And loneliness? It no longer scares me. It has become a room where I meet myself.

Still Learning, Still Becoming

Thirty is not the end of the road. It’s the beginning of awareness. The realization that being enough isn’t about perfection—but about learning when to pause, when to let go, and when to simply exist.

I still stumble. I still question. I still struggle with letting go of things that once defined me.

But now, I keep walking. Slowly. Mindfully. Gently.

Jakarta, 8 April 2024