Supposedly, 30 is the new 20 but I really hope not. Sure, our twenties were filled with less responsibility; staying out all night, house parties, bar hopping. They were also filled with apartments the size of a closet, dead-end jobs that leave us with no money, insecurities and, let’s face it, most of us learned how to cook by eating a lot of really, really bad meals.
As my 30th birthday approached this year, I am willing to admit that I handled it less than gracefully. At 29, I stood in my closet, drunk and crying, throwing clothes out at an alarming rate, screaming “I’m too old to wear this anymore!” All the while, my much younger friend was sitting in my room, rolling her eyes, repeatedly telling me “I’m not going to do this again when you’re 30.” Fortunately, she didn’t have to. The day I turned 30, I woke up in the morning and cried, non-stop, for two hours. My also much younger boyfriend at the time looked on, dumbfounded, trying to figure out why I was so distraught and how to stop my crying. The best I could come up with? My life was over. I was 30. Don’t statistics say that women over thirty have a greater chance of being struck by lightning then getting married?
Now, six months later, I’ve learned something spectacular; 30 is amazing! While those of us without children may have finally become aware of our biological clocks, there is still plenty of time left. I have more confidence in who I am and it shows, making the new relationships I form stronger and more interesting. I have an apartment I love, a great job and money to actually enjoy life more than just going out for dollar beer night. My house parties have turned into dinner parties with people I actually know and want to spend time with. I’ve learned to cook as well as any guidette should and, at the end of the night, I’m not falling asleep on the bathroom floor, hugging the toilet. Sure, my options for men my own age are fewer but, being a “cougar” stopped being white-trash and started being hot.
Twenty was fun but I’m not sure I would want to go back there. I’m lucky I lived through it the first time! While I might be ashamed of myself now and then when I think the music in the bar is too loud or I can barely move after spending the day at Great Adventure, I like to think I’ve still improved with age. I’m smarter, more confident, comfortable and secure, and I still look like I’m under twenty-five. I don’t know what twenty-nine year old me was so afraid of. If pink is the new black then thirty is definitely the new pink: it goes great with everything!
“Well, now thirty ain’t like fifteen And it’s not like twenty-five My back’s a little stiff And there’s some lines around my eyes But I’ve still got my energy And I’ve got most of my hair And I’m not too old to rock and roll And I’m not really scared” Randy Stonehill ~ Turning Thirty
The Law According to Murphy 
Damn you. A friend posted a link to your blog on Facebook this morning, and most of my day has since been consumed with reading your posts. I figured I would make my first comment on your Oct 2nd post, since that’s my birthday.
As a (now) 32-year-old single male, I have to say one thing: I love my 30’s. After a failed engagement, I immediately starting dating again because I was convinced myself that I was getting older and needed to start finding “the one” immediately. I couldn’t be more wrong.
Like you said, now I get to do the things I love, but as a grown-up. A Friday night by myself may find me at the local steak house drinking martinis & eating oysters instead of PBR & hot dogs at a friend’s house. (Mostly because said friend is married and his wife just wants to get caught-up on Grey’s Anatomy.)
Anyway – thank you for your writing. It’s funny, insightful, and seems to strike a chord with both men & women.
-@Sully
Posted by Sully | November 17, 2011, 12:14 PMThank you for reading! And a big thank you to whoever sent you the link 🙂 A man who drinks martinis with his steaks, huh? French Martini’s are the way to go!
Posted by Murphy's Law | November 17, 2011, 8:08 PM30 is right around the corner for me, and I am not looking forward to it. It makes me constantly question every decision that I’ve ever made that got me to this point in my life. The 20 year old me would look at me and go “Really?”.
Posted by Anon. | October 2, 2011, 7:41 PMThere are many nights I have the same thought running through my head; that the 20 year-old-me would be embarrassed of me. But, then I look at the person I was at 20. To be fair, I was a lot of fun and pretty awesome lol. But I was also very naive and sometimes just out right stupid. When I say I’m lucky to have survived my twenties, there is definitely a lot of truth to that. I wouldn’t trade it in for anything in the world; it’s made me who I am today (corny, I know) and I have also met some of the most incredible people during those years. Sure, I look at where I am now and question a lot of decisions I made. What if I hadn’t dated that guy or hadn’t gotten too clingy and driven away the other guy. What if I had known enough to do an internship with something in journalism or publishing? Maybe my life would be completely different now. But would I want to go back there again, even if I had the chance to do it all over and make better decisions? Six months ago, 29 year-old me would’ve said “Hell yes! Where’s the do over button!” But I realize now, it isn’t really about the things I do or don’t have in my life. It’s about the fact that I’m happy with me, with the person I’ve become. And, let’s be fair, if I had my twenties to do all over again, I would still probably spend them dancing on the bar in outfits my niece could fit into. We are who we are 🙂 Embrace 30…and happy birthday right around the corner!
Posted by Murphy's Law | October 2, 2011, 9:38 PM