Just five years ago, turning 30 might have posed a real crisis to me. At age 30, I had planned to compare my list of accomplishments to those I imagined were on the “should have accomplished” list at mile marker 30. Typical of an achievement-oriented eldest child, I expected I would be comparing things like career advancement, a certain income and investment level, and other accomplishments related to deliberate and planned effort to be in a certain place financially and in possessions, relative to… the Joneses, I guess. When I did turn 30 though, I realized that the items on the list had changed, and were actually only one: “Am I happy?” to which I sensed an overwhelming contentment, yes, I’m happy. Turning 30 was actually a really great day for me. Without consciously recognizing the change, somewhere along the way I decided my life would be measured by a different standard. I realized I had grown immensely in my own self-acceptance in just a few years, and this was accomplishment enough. I felt suddenly empowered to decide for myself how my life would be measured, and liberated enough to admit it. Because I get to choose, I will not have it measured by my possessions or career, but by my living honestly with myself.