What's so bad about turning 30?

One of several birthday celebrations :-)

As you probably know, I turned 30 last month.

And I have really tried to celebrate it well. Nearly a month on and I think I've managed that with several different gatherings with different special people. Yep I've been a bit greedy and I'm glad :-) But although I've perhaps had more than my fair share of parties, I intend to continue celebrating and valuing this whole year.

Part of that celebrating is hopefully to write more. So I'll start by sharing some 30-related musings... starting with pondering a bit more on why turning 30 is often seen as a bad thing. These aren't academic essays, they are not fixed opinions, they really are just musings, from my point of view here and now.


A lot of the birthday cards I received and things people said were quite derogatory about reaching this landmark, like there’s an expectation that one doesn’t want to turn 30, that it’s something to joke about or deny. I may look 17, according to all the bouncers and bartenders and supermarket staff in the world, but I actually feel pretty good about turning 30. Why should it be a negative deal? Of course it’s just a number, but I feel ready to identify with a new season of life, even if ‘being in your 30s’ seems to look increasingly different for each person. From a quick scan of my friends, there’s definitely no longer a stereotype. Which I think is a good thing.

Maybe the pessimistic perception of entering a new decade comes down to the fear in our culture of getting older, of looking older (and therefore supposedly less attractive) and perhaps ultimately of the great unspoken, death. But aside from us having no idea what death really means or what happens next, I think that maybe the bigger deal, for many of us, is more about what our lives look like now.  Grey hairs and wrinkles remind us that our time remaining is diminishing, is limited, and that perhaps we are not where we thought we’d be or haven’t achieved what we thought we might by this point. I think that's the undercurrent to my fervent hope that I remain grey hair-less for a good while yet. Not because of how it looks, but because of how it very visually declares that life has been lived, time is marching on, I'm not 21 any more.

One example of how turning 30 could make me feel sad/bad is by believing that I didn’t have enough FUN while I was in my twenties. Because that’s the main thing you should be doing, right? That I took life too seriously. That I didn’t dance enough, didn’t laugh enough, travel enough, drink enough. Yeh part of me wishes I had done more of all those things, not because of some external pressure, but because those things generally do bring me joy. There’s no reason not to do more of that in my 30’s though, right? And as well as doing some dancing and travelling and staying up late, in the working hard and staying put and going to bed early I learned a whole lot about loving people, about all sorts of jobs, about what is possible when I work really hard, about different corners of the UK, about commitment, about family. I’m glad for those lessons.

And I think it's a choice, the story we tell about our lives, the story we tell to ourselves. I could justifiably tell myself that I could have done my 20's differently, better. (Of course, we all could!) But I can also justifiably tell myself that I did the bloody best I could and that I can be proud of who I am at the end of them, and thankful for all the life lived in the past 10 years. I'll probably have to keep on making that choice to believe that, I probably won't always, but I'm gonna try.

What the negativity around getting older seems to come down to is pressure and expectation. Some ideal, illusive ‘place’ that we should have all reached at this point. A house owner, a successful career, money in the bank, a partner (and maybe) kids, all while looking groomed and sophisticated and knowing exactly what you want. Meanwhile most of us are not where we imagined we'd be. Friends didn't expect to be single when celebrating their 30th. Didn't expect to still be waiting to have children for whatever reason. Or defending their decision not to. Didn't expect to be still studying, changing career, coming out, moving city/country, settling down, travelling the world. But this is where we are. And the ones who appear to have ticked the boxes are not necessarily swinging from the chandeliers, singing that life is fabulous. Apart from possibly being totally exhausted, they've got their struggles too. 30 can be a battle on all fronts, no matter where you're at. Then again, I don't think it has to be.

It comes back to the thing I said I’m trying to do less of, focusing on achievement, especially outward, quantifiable achievement. Comes down to "shoulds". I think we should ban that word! Because it always leads to guilt. Because we’ll never be enough according to the standards of the world around us.

Who’s telling us what 30 is meant to look like? What’s in it for them? Is it doing us any good?

Wouldn’t it be great if we really started celebrating each year as it comes. To be thankful for the wisdom gained and life lessons learned. For the experiences, the highs and the lows and the fact that we’re still here, muddling our way through the mess - sometimes victoriously and sometimes on hands and knees. But we’re still here. And even though I don’t fully believe it yet, I want to accept that if there are regrets and things we wish we had done, then a lot of the time it isn’t too late to change that. Not too late to study, to move, to say sorry, to tell someone you love them. Not too late, not too late. Whatever’s gone before can be used to shape, shine and refine what comes next. If we let it, if we work with it, if we shrug off the ‘shoulds’ and face up to our faults and release any lingering resentment and regret, there's still hope. That’s the miracle of it all.

So Happy Birthday to me, here’s to thirty!