The Race to 30 (And the Permission to Slow Down)

There’s this invisible race I feel like I’ve been running lately.
A race to 30.


No one handed me a checklist, but somehow I made one anyway:
Be in the best shape of my life.
Hit certain career milestones.
Have multiple income streams.
Travel the world.
Fall in love—real, deep, the kind you write about.
Find balance. Build legacy. Be her.


And while I’m proud of everything I’m working toward, the pressure is starting to feel… heavy.
Not because I’m not capable—but because I’ve convinced myself it all needs to happen before I turn 30. Like there’s a deadline on becoming the woman I’m meant to be.


I keep saying, “I’ve got a lot on my plate.”
But I’m starting to realize… maybe I don’t need to finish the plate.
Maybe I can take smaller bites. Maybe I can come back to it later.


This sense of urgency? It’s exhausting.
And I think it’s because part of me believes 30 is the final chapter.
That if I don’t get it right by then, I’ve somehow missed my moment.


But what if 30 isn’t a finish line?
What if it’s a doorway?
A beginning?


What if I’m not behind, I’m just on my way?


Lately I’ve been drawn to those TikTok soundbites: “regulate your nervous system,” “lower your cortisol,” “create peace in your body.”
And I used to brush them off like wellness fluff—but I’m starting to wonder:
What if slowing down isn’t falling off track?
What if it is the track?


I’m learning that rest isn’t laziness.
That every dream I have doesn’t need to be crammed into a single season.
That saying, “Not right now,” doesn’t mean never.
That presence is a form of progress.


So yes—I still have big goals.
But I’m releasing the pressure to rush them.
I’m learning that some of the most powerful things I can do right now are:
Drink water. Sleep well. Breathe deep. Laugh with my people.
Call my grandma. Sit in silence. Eat without multitasking.
Choose peace—on purpose.


Because if I want to get to 30 feeling grounded, loved, and whole…
maybe the best thing I can do is slow down and trust the timing.


So I’m asking myself--
What would happen if I stopped racing… and started living?