ten reasons to take to thirty

After traipsing through a dreary Netflix catalogue one evening, knowing my selection would be an effortless re-re-re watch of another Friends episode, I settled solo on my sofa and decided on ‘the one where' Rachel turns thirty. My nearing thirty-year-old mind hurled itself back to a time where turning thirty had never entered it, a time where the age of the Friends cast didn’t matter. Instead, my innocent and limited ten-year-old brain was only concerned with whether there was enough free credit left on my Nokia to text into the music channels. I wasn’t preoccupied with age, especially not those twenty years ahead of me. Age was, just a number. And I heard that phrase a lot - uttered by adults through cigarette smoke and coffee steam - but it never occurred to me why anyone would need to state something so obvious.

As life tends to when we get older, the last twenty years have whizzed by quicker than the obligatory clap between ‘life was gonna be this waaaay’ and ‘your jobs a joke you’re broke.’ I mean if there was a theme tune for turning 30, right? And now here I am writing a feature about turning just that.

Age is just a number. Is this an eternally salvaged phrase to say to someone because they are now…old? A bit like the ‘plenty more fish in the sea’s said to the newly singletons, or the ‘smile it may never happen’s suggested to the painfully miserable looking. But - when puberty seems like an embarrassing old photo tucked away on a dust covered bookshelf somewhere, and childhood is nothing but a muffled memory sequence, occasionally cropping up as a stranger walks by wearing a perfume prompting a past time, or when a song on the radio blasts you backwards seventeen years to dance routines and teen magazines - there is satisfaction knowing you have survived the hormonal hurdles of your teenage years, and the traumas, trials and tribulations of your twenties (some of which are listed in this post.)

Back to Friends, the episode centers around the irritatingly gorgeous Rachel Green (the colour she turns all her female viewers.) She’s in despair on the morning of her thirtieth birthday and has a similar spiel to her central perk clique that I have had many times within my own stream of consciousness, freely flowing for over 29 years. I thought I’d be in a serious relationship by now, that I’d have a child or two, I’d own a house and a fit-bit. I thought I’d be able to walk in heels or have hair that would grow past my fudging shoulders, or a better signature that wasn’t simply C.unchanged surname, or a rich, ridiculously handsome Italian man who makes breakfast and over emphasises the second syllable of my first name.

As we grow older, we focus on the things we don’t have as a result of what society (and social media) tells us we should have. But societal archetypes are severely outdated and social media is a load of crippling tosh. We could spend hours (likely those in the evening when we should be getting some shut eye) tantalising our already burdened minds with what we should, could or would be doing but how about what we are, can and will be doing? Perhaps this is me justifying the fact that I am okay with turning thirty, but I really am, honestly, I am I promise, yeah really. 100% fine with it. Well okay, so I’m a little bit freaked out, but I think that’s just a byproduct of turning thirty.

So, in order to ease off the internal panic I have when I have to scroll further down the drop-down menu to locate my age bracket online, I have devised a list of ten reasons to take to thirty. It may be much more for my gain than anyone else’s, perhaps something I whip out to prevent a further wine infused interrogation session asking ‘how old do YOU think I am?!?!’ to some poor innocent University fresher who is just trying to have a roll up outside the bar with his mates. One of them said ‘29’,’ and I was hoping for at least a 27, but the mean age of him and the checkout guy at Asda who ID’d me for buying hooch and garlic bread last Friday is 28 so ‘I’ll leave you guys alone now sorry, enjoy the rest of your night.'

So here goes, ten reasons to take to thirty:

1. You are no longer in your twenties. Obvious statement yes, but blow me, that was a funny decade wasn’t it? Ten years trying on outfits, box hair dyes and potential boyfriends. Jesus wept what a roller coaster. You’re up and down like the head of a super fan at the front of a metal concert, hey - you might have even been in there moshing ya'self in the college days. You don’t know if you’re depressed, human, due on, or coming down. You’re left on your own to figure out who the hell you are now that you are set free into the scary world of employment, illegal raves and council tax bills. The years you bite more off than you can chew, spend more money than you can afford and cry over ex’s like they are the only ones you’ll ever truly love. You fashion hangovers like a tote bag made from recycled materials and experiment with eyebrow thickness and eyeliner flicks like a pioneering Picasso. In the elevator twenties, you can get away with being a bit of a dick head, in fact, you’re meant to be a bit of a dickhead, so people can tell you you’re being a dick head and shape you into a less dick head of a person. You can also start to pinpoint the dick headish things you say and do and eliminate the dick headishness in yourself and also – very usefully – begin to see it in others. A decade of mop chops, job hops, crop tops, hot shots, pit stops and fling flops. No wonder it goes so bleedin’ quick. See ya later, dickhead.

2. You’ve accepted yourself; where you are and where you want to be. And not necessarily in terms of status (relationships/work/financial,) but you as a person. The decade preceding has allowed you to figure out which versions of yourself to take with you, and which ones to leave behind. A little like packing for a holiday, eliminating the outfits that don’t fit you quite as well as they used to, the ones too outrageous and unnecessary for your next trip. You’ve identified parts of you that have granted your internal evolution and positive experiences, and which have stunted you. That doesn’t mean to say you have all the answers and can’t still be the dickhead aforementioned, but science states that a brain caps off its second and last growth spurt during the twenties in order to rewire itself for adulthood. Our personality alters more during our twenties than at any other point in life. So you’ve plunged yourself into a self psycho-analysis (with the help of books, blogs, podcasts) to understand why you are the way you are, and kindly bid farewell to the little bits of you that weren't very helpful. You know yourself best, you know what’s good for you, you’ve been living with ya damn self for thirty years.

3. You can say no to things and not feel like a total cretin. As a ‘yes’ person, you still have a little way to go, but by the end of your twenties you started to reap the benefits of saying no. No to a night out, no to a dinner you couldn't afford, no to a fling that you knew was going to eventually check you in first class pent house effing suite to The Heartbreak Hotel cause it showed all the signs of non-commitment (and you are renowned for indulging in the unobtainable.) By 30, you have had plenty of experiences that have helped you understand where certain situations are headed – saying no to them avoids the same thing happening again. Saying no and making better decisions for yourself means you are in control. Even if it is a simple ‘no’ to logging in to social media for the day, no to lunch with friends because you’re quite happy staying in your slipper socks for 24 hours, no to casual sex because when does that ever work, no to Jamie Oliver’s lean green breakfast machine smoothie because - although you take pride in looking after yourself and treating your body with the respect and nourishment it deserves - you really fancy eating four fucking crumpets with melted butter and marmite on this morning SORRY JAMIE IT’S JUST ONE OF THOSE MORNINGS OKAY?

4. You’ve figured out what works for you in terms of managing your well-being. Sleep was apparently for the weak in your twenties, eating was allegedly cheating, yoga was something you’d sorta do whilst romping with some fella you met one Saturday night. Self-care? No time for that malarkey unless it meant bleaching your hair and piercing your own nose. But there comes a time where all this doesn’t serve you too well, perhaps it’s getting older, wiser, more prone to feel the aftereffects of less rewarding choices (hangovers certainly get worse.) You’ve started doing more things for you, not because it’s the new fad or fashion, the ‘in’ thing, a popular hashtag, or cause all your friends are doing it. (You tried to be vegan mid-twenties but pretty sure the cheese withdrawals lead you into a deep depression.) And hot yoga? You’d rather not pay £14.00 to get sweaty with a load of strangers, inhaling the ambiance of unfamiliar pheromones and potent patchouli, contending with lewd glares that scream my-downward-dog-is-better-than-yours. Instead, you pop on YouTube and complete a self-esteem boosting session of with Yoga with Adriene. Does it help that she’s your girl crush? Yes, yes it bloody does. But it’s what works for you, and there’s so much on offer now to be able to figure out what does. What a time to indulge in exercise, seriously! Joe Wickes? Maybe it’s ‘cause his work out groans remind you of an ex you still think of, but those work outs make you feel better than he ever did. You have also realised that Deliveroo and Double Cheeseburgers are a luxury rather than a way of life. Wholesome food makes for a wholesome mind and you’re very proud of your collection of cooking books and magazine tear outs, bossing the kitchen thing like a 1971 Delia Smith. (Still prone to luxury in the form of crumpets and melted butter though, you are after all, human.)

5. You are well on the way to alleviating the worry of what people think of you. Boyfriendless, childless, mortagageless, botoxless, braless? So what? These days, less is more (for some people.) After all, you can’t quite imagine yourself talking about baby poo, or sharing your small double with an unfathomably perplex being who doesn’t put the toilet seat down when he’s finished, and you certainly struggle with understanding how an already precarious pay packet could stretch itself to ever-increasing interest rates and IKEA flat packs. Some days you look better without mascara, some days you don't change out of your spaghetti strap pyjama top because no one at work will second guess what’s underneath your jumper. Sometimes, you keep your head down in the supermarket cause you frankly cannot be arsed to make small talk with an ex-colleague that you really did have a wonderful time sitting next to four years ago, but you’ve got crumpets to purchase. You’ve begun telling people how you really feel without fear of coming across the wrong way. You have a day off work so you can contemplate the meaning of life and binge watch Friends, returning the next day to a multitude of ‘are ya feeling better?'s and ‘how are you feeling today?’s. ‘WELL I’M HERE AREN’T I CLAIRE!?’ Woah woah woah, perhaps not that honest, but you are now much more concerned with what you think of you rather than what others do. Score.

6. You don’t mind making mistakes (as much.) You got pretty uptight and defensive pre and post twenties when you messed up right? Constructive and criticism were words not to be married together. (A bit like twenty-two-year-old-you and that chap you convinced yourself you’d marry despite not having much in common, but he did have the most beautiful eyes and his surname sounded fab next to your first.) Now you recognise that making mistakes is part of the learning process, not just something people say to you in your first few weeks at a new job. And you will continue to make them, every experience is relevant and required in order to move on to the next. And the best part? You can look back and chuckle at your pre-thirty self, the times where you thought your ‘mistakes’ meant the end of the world. When at the time you thought it was the worst thing to ever happen, you’d never live to see the day that you’d look back with a maternal mindset and say to yourself: ‘oh poppet, what were you thinking?’ Chances are, you weren’t. You might even start putting a bit of cashette aside to cover over that god-awful tattoo you have on your right arse cheek following a drunken holiday in Spain for your 21st. You are finally making progress paying off a credit card you used to go to Bali in search of enlightenment but instead got drunk a lot and hung out at a reggae bar crushing on Australians.

7. You have accepted yourself physically now too, you're working with what ya got, thankful for what you have. You accept your body as it is and as your own. Your never-able-to-get-past-that-awkward-length hair, your slightly wider than the other British girls’ nose, your lanky never-able-to-wear-heels legs (not that you can walk in them anyway.) Perhaps you’ve just grown bored of complaining about things, most of which you could probably change if you truly wanted through means of scissors, knives and scalpels but your nose is a part of you that helps you smell and suits your face. Not sure what you could do about lanky legs in LA but you're grateful to them for making an excellent goal shooter on the year eleven netball team. You’ve been looking in the mirror for three decades now, of course you’re going to see your ‘imperfections,’ but what the hell is all of that anyway? It will change again in ten years, what society tells us we should look like. Look at yourself with a new pair of eyes, see yourself as a stranger would, they wouldn’t notice the pre-menstrual pimples on your chin (goodness knows why they pitch up there as though it’s a campsite for teenagers,) or the lump below your knee from when you shot up too fast at thirteen. You realise that you are very lucky to have the body that you do, to move about in and have the lengthy life experience that you have had so far.

8. Your social sphere is one you want to revolve and evolve in. You’ve filtered out the people that make you feel a bit crap and you know your standards when it comes to letting people in. You may send three fire emojis via DM to an ex work colleague post-balayage, or a love heart emoji to the new mum you used to sit next to in Maths, now two adorable baby twins in the equation. You have hundreds of friends on Facebook you know nothing about other than what they had for dinner or which Thai Island they are hopping to next. But your intimate circle is one you have carefully crafted into a one you wish to be in for the rest of your life. The friends that make you feel good about yourself, make you laugh, eliminate your tears and alleviate your fears. The friends you have more in common with than simply work or academia, the ones that know everything about you, the deepest and darkest bits even you struggle to understand. The friends you tag on social media time travel: 'three years ago!' 'SEVEN YEARS AGO?' 'how is this TEN YEARS AGO?!?' You know now that friendships are a little like serious relationships. People can fall out of platonic love and people can drift apart but time, courage and commitment make for the most beautiful and perennial.

9. You have been alive for thirty years! Well done you. It's a big achievement when you really think about it. You are stronger now than ever before (not physically, although perhaps you can thank Joe and Adriene for that later.) Congratulations for building that life muscle. You know life can be tough and weird and sad and mortifying and yet you still (most of the time) maintain a cheerful disposition in the crazy, beautiful world. You’ve dealt with a lot over the last few decades. Losses for one. Ugh! The losses! Loved ones, relationships, jobs, countless debit cards, house keys, dignity, the loss of control, the plot losses, the loss of pastimes. You’ve not seen it all, but you’ve seen A LOT. And you are ready and excited for the next bit. (Not saying it’s all been hardships and losses, there have been plenty of gains too, but the point here is that you are still finding joy and beauty despite the chaos that life can sometimes bring.)

10. Which leads me on to my final point - you still have so much to come. As you did when you were two, five, ten, thirteen, sixteen, eighteen, twenty four, twenty-eight (even then you thought you had all the answers). So many more memories to make, experiences to have, lessons to learn, people to meet, people to make? So much more air to breathe, songs to sing, books to read, films to watch, streets to walk, strangers to talk to, ships to sail (metaphorically, but I do want to go on a cruise, maybe a little early for that though.) They say life begins at thirty…or is it forty? Who cares? Life begins again every day.

It is inevitable for me to look back on this in twenty years’ time and think, 'what a naive thirty-year-old, thinking I had all the answers.' But I believe that’s what the timeless phrase ‘age is just a number’ means; getting older,doesn’t really change anything. We continue having experiences, making memories and mistakes, learning and laughing and growing and loving for the rest of our lives.

So to wrap up, I do have a little bit of advice, some of which I am still putting in to practice. For those preceding me in their miraculous loops around the sun - as much as there is encouragement to do what you will in your twenties because 'you're still young' (another perpetual expression replaced quicker than you could ever anticipate with 'age is just a number)' - it is also a vital time to set yourself up for your future. So please don’t be reckless and be very aware of your standards. Wait, there's more:

love yourself first (look up what it means to love yourself), learn to say no. Make sure you eat well and sleep plenty, exercise a little every day. Take your mind away from itself regularly - a long soak in a bubble bath or walk in the woods. Treat yourself as you would your bestest friend, and only allow others to treat you that way too.

Be honest ALWAYS, with others, but more importantly to yourself. Learn to be fantastic with money, avoid financial disorder completely. Don’t pretend to be chill about being mistreated. Dating is weirder now than ever because everyone is confused, do not wait around for anyone to make their mind up (it’s not you, it’s them, seriously.)

Try days without makeup, without Instagram, without attending to anyone other than yourself. Move around, it’s in our nature. We are not bound to one thing, especially if it is making unhappy. Find a passion or a hobby that you can use as a go to when things get a little rough.

Don’t worry about what other people think, chances are they aren’t thinking of you because they are too busy thinking about what people think of them. And finally, stretch after a night of dancing – it sounds weird but I’m pretty sure that’s the reason my legs feel 40 years older than they are. It logical isn’t it, we had to do it after PE?

And just for the record, I am SO not ready to stop dancing.