When people ask me my age, they are generally shocked with mouth wide open when I say 30. Is 30 really that old? Am I supposed to look that much older or more responsible perhaps?

My friends on the island say as soon as I have a babe in hand I instantly age 5 years. It's an odd thing being 30, single and only really having to decide what bikini to wear to the beach on my tropical island each day. Zero responsibility beyond teaching 2 yoga classes a day, which I can hardly call responsibility when I love it so much.

So my girlfriends and I joke that when your biological clock goes off as a woman, your ovaries swell when presented with a cute baby or an attractive guy. Yesterday when I was playing with baby Gab in the water, the old ovaries started to swell and the conversation in my mind started up like a rusty old engine. It has been a while since I have felt that cluckiness.

The conversation with myself pretty much goes like this "Should I be living a life of leisure at this age with no plans of settling down anytime soon?" "Sure you should, you only live once grab life by the balls!" "Yeah but how long will my ovaries actually last before they shrivel up and don't do their job anymore?" "It will happen, enjoy your freedom while you have it" "OK good point, back to the beach!"

So back to the beach I go. Freedom tied to my ankles.

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