ten things that have changed my perspective on turning 30
I feared turning thirty from the moment I turned twenty-six. Jack gave me a hug and jokingly said “welcome to your late twenties!” He wasn’t to know that this thought would spiral into a four-year preoccupation. Absolutely filled with terror for what might be, anticipating the gradual vanishing that could take place. Internalising the fear of every woman I saw on tv, replaying the way Rachael mourned her youth on Friends.
I used to wish away the present. When I was twenty-two, I couldn’t wait to be thirty-one, in a perfectly-designed flat with a boyfriend and a dog.1 As time crept on, as I set higher expectations for myself and I didn’t see as much progress as I’d hoped, the excitement about growing older, that had been so tied to what I would have as a result, began to fade.
As crunch time hit, I leaned into the fear: I organised a big party, ordered a cake and rented a dress. I felt so incredibly loved that night, surrounded by friends and family who all made the effort to come and celebrate with me. And then the next day, perhaps due to the endorphin crash with a touch of existential fear: I cried, and cried, and cried.
I don’t necessarily think I’d be as fearful if I wasn’t broadcasting my creative self on this endless hamster wheel of trying to remain relevant. The narrative around women and ageing feels enormous, and the instances when you see it play out magnifies the possibility of those attitudes affecting your progress, your success, too.
Honestly, I’m so bored of thirty taking up this much space in my head. So here’s me emptying out the dirty water — I hope it helps you too.
Some things that have changed, and are changing, my perspective on ageing —
When I told a twenty-one year-old I met that I turned thirty last week, she let out an audible gasp and refused to believe me. More evidence that the ageing woman narrative has poisoned us! Age seems to be more about presentation than anything else. By being worried about it, always mentioning it in hushed tones, you make yourself seem old. I want to be a circuit breaker on the narrative that we, especially women, can’t be seen as young once we’re thirty. I don’t want her to fear turning thirty the way I have, so the change needs to be modelled by me.
When I look back at how convinced I was at 23, 24, 25, 26, 27 and 28 that I had “run out of time” I want to shake her. There was so much time. In the same vein, there are probably a million women in their thirties with more perspective and wisdom than me who currently want to grab my shoulders and give me a big rattle right now.
My friend Taz pointed out to me that I couldn’t have had any of the things I now have at thirty when I was twenty. The relationship I have with Jack, the career, the friendships I have, the wisdom and the three years of sobriety are all things collected and earned over time. This one really helped.
I had this internal narrative that I peaked at twenty-one, but luckily for me I documented my entire twenties. This month I watched back some of those vlogs from twenty-one year-old me and I can confidently tell you that you couldn’t pay me to be to go back to that headspace, with that degree of insecurity and uncertainty, again. My sleep schedule was non-existent, I carried guilt and shame with me in a backpack and I lived in a state of panic that literally made doctors worried for my wellbeing. Life is a lot less scary now (and I’m marginally less annoying too.)
Ageing is something of which we are completely out of control. Stressing about a continuing, unavoidable process is wasted energy. Literally useless.
Over time (that I’ve only had because I’ve been lucky enough to reach this age!) I’ve learned that this flavour of Big Dread™️ usually speaks to some deep internalised fear within me. When I reflect on why I have been particularly preoccupied with ageing, I think it comes down to a fear that I’ve wasted time. I can’t change the past, but I can use this knowledge to guide me through the coming years and ensure I don’t feel like I’m wasting any further time. This is the era to create as many opportunities for myself as possible.
Carrie Bradshaw was 32 in the Sex And The City pilot episode.
There are so many creatives I admire who have made, and are making, their best work over 30: Charli XCX, Hayley Williams, Tracey Emin, Nicole Kidman, Tory Burch, a hundred different women I follow online and even more creative people whose names will come to mind the moment I publish this.
I have literally never looked at a female friend and thought that they were past it once they turned thirty. Its never even crossed my mind.
How beautiful to still feel so young, with a working body and big brain full of thoughts. How lucky I am.
I actually have two of those things so I really shouldn’t be such a misery guts. Another reminder that I’m doing better by my own standards!!
I turned 50 this year. I daren't look in the mirror in case what peers back at me haunts me to my bones. I think I became middle aged in my teens. But something changed (probably just after I turned 30) - I couldn't care less. Some light switch flicked on that I never knew was there before. I knew what I wanted out of my life and if that changes (which it inevitably did) I wanted that even more. The doing became the focus rather than the goal. I became... happy. I had never been that before. Not only with how I saw the world and my place in it but with me. I'm not perfect and every defect gets out on my to-do list whenever I get around to looking at it. I've moved around and still in a place I don't want to be in but that's geographical not psychological... geography always changes with time like many other boundaries in life. Hitting 30 for me was like setting off a tripwire in a war zone, just the things that set off aren't aimed at me anymore. The older I get, the more I don't allow things to bother me like they used to. Memories of past concerns seem to have eroded with time and I have forgiven myself for looking back so much and for having held myself accountable for things I could not and would not have differently at the time. People get hurt, I hurt people but then people hurt me. 30 just gave me suit to protect me from it all. I just now have 20 more years of peace when there was once war - realising the only person I was battling was myself.
The feeling old vs feeling young thing is so real. I feel younger at 28 than 26. Had to shift the soundtrack from "Why do you write like you're running out of time?" to "I'm willing to wait for it". Thanks Hamilton!