On Turning 30

Tomorrow I turn 30. Even typing out those words feels weird. My thoughts about entering a new decade aren’t completely coherent but I still want to write a blog post about all of these feelings I’m feeling as I approach the big 3-0… in the midst of a pandemic, nonetheless.

Thoughts On Turning 30:

I’m going to blame the musical Tick, Tick… Boom for singlehandedly shaping my opinion on what it means to turn 30.

For those not familiar: The show is written by Jonathan Larson, the man who also created Rent. Tick, Tick… Boom was originally written as a one-man show and has since been retooled to be a 3-person musical. The autobiographical show talks about Jonathan’s thoughts on turning 30 as a “promising young composer” that is still struggling to get his big break.

 

I was 12 when I first saw Tick… Tick… Boom off-broadway and I was OBSESSED.

My brother and I would sing along to the cast recording in the car all the time. I listened to the CD (remember CDs?) constantly. Years later I directed a scene from the show for a project my freshmen year of college. And I’ve seen countless productions of the show since that first viewing.

I’ve spent the last 18 years of my life indirectly thinking about turning 30 thanks to this show. This show about one man’s mental breakdown leading up to his 30th birthday has been ingrained in my brain since before I was a teen. Because of this show I’ve spent the majority of my life thinking that 30 is something to fear. And especially so if you haven’t hit certain societal benchmarks like getting married or being secure in your career.

 

I am not 100% where I want to be at this point in my life.

Which is scary to admit publicly.

I never subscribed to the idea that you had to be married and “settled down” by the time you’re 30. After all, my parents weren’t married until they were both in their 30’s. I don’t want to have kids so there’s not some biological clock that’s ticking.

But it’s also hard not to notice that a lot of my friends did end up getting married before 30.

I always imagined that I’d feel more settled at this point.

Right now my life is anything but settled. Even prior to the pandemic, my life felt scattered. I’m still recovering from a break-up that happened over 7 months ago and I’m still figuring out my long-term career plan. While I love teaching yoga and fitness, I don’t know if teaching 16 classes a week is something I’ll be able to do forever both physically and financially. I love blogging and writing but both are still more of a hobby than a steady source of income.

This is not how I thought 30 would look. Surely I thought I’d have my shit together by now.

At the end of Tick, Tick… Boom Jonathan Larson’s fictionalized self comes to terms with where he is at.

This important workshop for his new musical goes well. He gets a phone call from legendary composer Stephen Sondheim congratulating him on a job well-done. That musical isn’t Rent, FYI, and still has never been produced.

Jonathan and his girlfriend break up because they have different dreams for the future but they still share a mutual love and respect for each other. This certainly hits close to home for me and my own break-up this year.

He forgives his best friend for “selling out” and giving up on acting for a more stable career in the advertising world — even though that’s not the path Jonathan wants to take.

It’s not in the show but we know the real Jonathan continues to write musicals and eventually writes the smash-hit Rent. Sadly he passed away at age 35, before the Broadway production opened. The show went on to win 4 Tony Awards and run for 12 years. Jonathan Larson lived up to his reputation of being a “young promising composer” — and then some.

I am cheesy, but not cheesy enough to conclude this blog post by saying there is still time for me to write my Rent!

But I feel like I’m on the path to something.

On Wednesday night I taught a virtual yoga sculpt class, dubbed Kayla’s Birthday Sculptacular. Over 60 people signed up and showed up for class. We raised $1,197.11 for charity.

Until I sat down to write this blog post I hadn’t let the full weight of what that class meant to me sink in.

In that Zoom room were my parents and brother. There were my friends from growing up that I’ve known since I was 5. There were a handful of people I’ve kept in touch with from college. My current Bar Method co-workers and former co-workers from the various jobs I’ve held over the years. Friends I’ve met only a few months ago while traveling. People that I met thanks to Instagram that have become some of my closest friends. And people that I’ve never met but know me from social media.

As we flowed to Lizzo and One Direction, and danced to the Spice Girls and did bicep curls to Hedwig and the Angry Inch I felt overwhelmed with love and gratitude for all the people in that Zoom room.

This year has sucked, this year has challenged me, this year has felt lonely more often than not. But in that Zoom room, I was surrounded by the most amazing community of people who showed up to support me.

I was doing what I love: I love teaching, I love uplifting people through movement, I love bringing people together and I’m not ashamed to admit I love performing.

I don’t have it all figured out. Not even a little bit. I don’t have a boyfriend. I currently don’t really have a job. And I don’t know what the next month holds let alone this new decade in my life. But I do know that I’m on to something. And that counts for a lot.

As Jonathan Larson wrote: I’m gonna spend my time this way.