One Year Older, One Year Down
Lessons I’m carrying into my thirties and the year ahead
I’ve grown a year older, just as we’re all about to cross another year off our calendars too. I turned 30 two weeks ago, and apparently this is meant to be a big, momentous turning point? Honestly, I’ve felt at least 60 for a while now. Not wisdom-wise, but back pain, joint pain, and white hair-wise. So I wasn’t expecting some dramatic shift.
That said, I’m liking the person I’m becoming more and more. I don’t mean that in an egotistical or arrogant way, but just in a, “5-year-old-Mariam would probably be proud of us if she could see us now” kind of way.
So here are a few things I’ve learned, or want to carry with me, into my thirties and into this new year.
1. Sometimes, I overshare.
I used to replay conversations in my head afterward and cringe. Now I realize those moments probably made us both feel seen, or at least less alone in our weirdness.
2. Give fewer fucks. Seriously.
Other people’s issues, projections, and insecurities don’t need to become my problem or affect me the way they used to.
3. Comfort is not laziness.
If it’s uncomfortable, inconvenient, or requires me to stand too long for no reason, fogerrabourit.
4. I’m allowed to enjoy the moment even when it’s imperfect.
I used to want to wait for “the perfect moment” to enjoy my cup of coffee or read my book or sit and write. Now any moment I can get without a kid touching me or shouting my name is good enough. This brings us to point number 5…
5. Romanticize small, boring things more.
6. Learn to sit with myself.
On a physical level, I need to fight the urge to reinvent myself every few months with a new hair cut or color. The newness will fade, fast. On a mental level, I need to finish meeting this new version of myself before trying to create a new persona every time I read a new book or see an old pic of myself.
7. Rest is productive.
I don’t need to earn it.
8. Accept that I may never be cool.
And that’s fine. I look at the Beirut “it-crowd” on Instagram and think, wow, they’re so cool. Like capital C cool. I’ve never felt that way. But maybe the goal isn’t to be cool. Maybe it’s to stop asking if I’m allowed to sit at the table.
9. My body is not something to “fix.”
It’s something to listen to, support, and occasionally apologize to for the way I treated it in my twenties.
10. I can love something deeply and still complain about it.
Motherhood, work, life in general - all true at the same time.
11. I no longer believe anyone who says “this will only take 10 minutes.”
That is a lie.
12. I know my kids best.
Advice is welcome. Conversations are helpful. But at the end of the day, I trust my instincts. I’m the one in it, every day, every night. I’ll listen, and then I’ll decide.
13. I don’t need to explain my tiredness.
It’s not a competition. I don’t need to justify why I’m exhausted or compare it to someone else’s exhaustion. I’m tired. Full stop. Next question.
14. I am allowed to change my mind.
About plans. About people. About careers. About my food order. If something no longer fits, I don’t owe anyone a detailed explanation. But yes, it’s most likely linked to point 13.
15. Motherhood didn’t erase me, it rearranged me.
Some days I miss who I was before. Other days I realize she made this version possible. I’m learning that grief and gratitude can exist at the same time. Apparently, that’s adulthood.
16. My sensitivity is not a flaw.
Yes, I cry easily. Yes, I feel things deeply. No, it’s not because I’m “too sensitive,” as if that’s some character defect I should work on. Like, I’m sorry I’m human???
17. I can be ambitious and deeply domestic at the same time.
I can want a big, meaningful career and also care deeply about the color of my kid’s snot.
18. Stop overthinking.
My brain loves a good spiral. Did that text sound weird? Are they mad? Are they together without me? Not everything is about me. And even when it is, it’s rarely that deep.
19. If I want to make something happen…
… just start.
20. I still don’t know what I’m doing, but I trust myself more while not knowing.
And honestly, that might be the most grown-up part of this whole thing.



You’re going to love your thirties