Turning 30

In about six weeks I will be thirty years old. Supposedly, this is a major turning
point in one’s life. As for me, it is and it isn’t. Just acknowledging it is giving it importance, I know. Well, so?

I’m not afraid, worried, or alarmed. I kind of welcome thirty. For one, I feel smarter, stronger, more attractive (though a bit too fat recently), calmer, and more independent than ever before. I’ve always really liked the 30’s decade. I’ve always thought women were at their most beautiful in their 30’s. I’ve also admired how you are still young, but have taken all those lessons learned from your twenties and can put them to good use.

I’ve seen my face changing lately – in a way that I like. Unfortunately, I’ve put on about 5-10lbs in the past few months, a mixture of illness and laziness being the culprit. But I have liked the changes in my face. I have wrinkles around my eyes – those laughing lines or crow’s feet (the former sounding quite a bit kinder, in my opinion). Those are okay. I have watched my face take on more angles and shapes. My cheeks and nose seem a bit pointier, and my eyes are different, though I’m not sure why. I’ve even seen a bit more definition in my chinline, which is fine with me considering my normally soft profile. And as I said, since I’ve packed on a little lately, it’s not due to losing weight. I like it. It makes me look older, and a bit more dignified and less goofy. It’s not like I had plastic surgery, and I’m sure anyone who is in my life wouldn’t notice much of a change, but I do, and I’m pleased with it. Unfortunately, I recently went off the pill for the first time in about 10 years and it brought back my oily skin and acne in an aggressive rush. Before that, I had finally achieved, with the combined help of a high level of estrogen and the tropical climate, problem-free skin for the first time in my life.

One of the only bad things I can think of regarding turning thirty, is the loss of the allowance to be a fuck up. When you’re in your twenties, you are often referred to as “young” and you are given a LOT of freedom to do whatever the fuck you want. You can try different jobs (including getting fired), enroll and drop out of school (multiple times if need be), take off and travel for awhile, join a Buddhist temple to become a monk, etc. This is all fairly-well tolerated.

What I don’t like is that once you hit 30, society has lost almost all of its patience with your bullshit. Although the recent emergence of the “Bridgets” in the last few years have kicked out a niche for the new brand of 30-somethings. But in reality, once you hit 30, it’s time to cut the fucking shit. You aren’t married? Are you even LOOKING for a mate? And speaking of “mate,” (if you are a woman), “You know, you only have so many years left [to have a baby], you know. You don’t want to wait too long, be too old.” (I personally have heard this statement, almost verbatim, given to me on more than one occasion). It’s time to get hitched, time to put kids on the agenda (not NOW, but very very soon!), it’s time to get a career instead of a job, to stay in ONE place and settle down, to maybe buy a house or a condo, and maybe even buy a (GAGGAGGAG) an SUV.

I think I’d rather slit my wrists.

So, I’m nearly 30, single, in a good job but one I don’t see as a career, staying in a 2-bedroom-on-loan apartment, and living in Thailand, where I have NO intention of settling in. The only bit of responsibility I have is 2 cats. I don’t really have any interest in marriage, and although I’d like children some day, I certainly don’t want any right now. I like going out, being by myself, traveling, buying myself stuff, and sleeping all way too much.