Things I’ve learned at age 30

Photo by Johannes W on Unsplash

Today is my 30th birthday (I’ll pause while you sing). Culturally, we “make a big deal” out of decade birthdays not because they are inherently more valuable, but because we are looking for milestones that can easily fit into compact boxes labeled “life lessons”. Each decade marks a formative transition from one very distinct educational bracket to another.

From zero to ten, you grow into a human. From a blob of fourth-trimester gunk and uselessness to a full-fledged, bonified person with a name, brain, and the ability to ride a bike and negotiate sleepovers. From ten to twenty you (arguably) become an adult. You navigate (through logic, reason, and social grace) school, relationships, and first jobs. You become fairly self-sufficient, learning how to do things on your own for the first time (banking, laundry, driving through an automatic cash wash), setting yourself up for permanent independence.

Each decade presents its own unique foundational bricks and key discoveries. But here, straddling the line between my 20s and 30s, I venture that no age transition is more pronounced (from an important-life-lessons-beaten-into-you perspective) than 20 to 30.

Since 90% of brain development happens before age 5, I’ve long-mastered the basics of shapes and colors. I also know how to form healthy friendships and negotiate my cable bill (threaten to leave — then do so). However, age 20 to 30 marked a rapid expansion and maturation of my emotional boundaries and abilities, which have transformed me from an “adult” to an ADULT. Do I still have stuff to figure out? Do tollbooth operators have the worst jobs? But here is what I’ve surmised so far.

1. Forming voluntary life-long bonds with people outside your family is necessary. Who those people are is definitive. Maybe you are still BFFs with your kindergarten nap buddy, or maybe you just recently acquired your soul-sister. Regardless, these friendships are the soil of life, and they will (and have) defined how other people see you, how you see yourself, the health of other relationships, even your creativity and ambition. I’m not telling you to break up with your loser, drama-laden friend who constantly bails on your plans and makes everyone cringed when they arrive drunk to your birthday party but….break up. Surround yourself with people who sharpen your saw, not add rust.
2. It’s ok to simultaneously love and hate Martha Stewart. I have a really deep-seated fear/respect thing for Martha. Not because she’s a good person (quite the opposite), but because she has managed to create a persona of someone who has it allllll together yet is a convicted felon. She wears the two hats with such dignity it almost makes me wonder if jail is the answer. Martha has created an empire of perfectionism that is both admirable and scary. Her magazine is the perfect blend of delectable pie recipes, home cleaning tips, and frothy articles about nothing important but they feel really important. Normally, the type of perfection she espouses fills me with rage, but it’s so unrealistic and obviously contrived it becomes fascinating. I admire her elasticity, her marketing team, and her personification of a brand that really should be a dumpster fire.
3. I will most likely not become a famous actor/writer/singer and that’s ok. Sure, I could decide performing is my life passion and go full-on Lady Gaga, but that is most likely not going to happen because my priorities do not align with living on a tour bus, serving as first of three opening acts for a B-list country singer at the Jammin Java Coffee Shack and Music Emporium. Maybe this could have been my path, but at a certain point, you grow to love eight hours of sleep and a predictable work schedule synchronized with your pilates classes. I still certainly do have dreams and ambitions, but it’s ok to let go of those that are no longer healthy, conducive, or compatible with the still-evolving vision of the life you want now.
4. Food, sleep, and movement really can make or break you. A treasured childhood memory is watching my mom get sick on two glasses of champagne at a cousin’s wedding. She said it was the concentrated sugar. As I (responsibly) drank my way through college and young adulthood, I would occasionally remember and laugh at my mother’s apparent weakness and likely lie. But then, it hit me. Two glasses of red wine on a Thursday night and Friday was difficult. A cheese pizza and no salad left me bloated and irritable. If I don’t go for at least two, 30-minute walks a day (just a like a dog), I’ll lay awake at night, bicycle-peddling my legs to make them tired. I stop eating at 8pm, not for my waistline, but because I feel physically ill the next day- like a weekend bender in Cancun circa 2012. I used to make fun of my mom, and my punishment is a life of guilt and empathy.
5. 30 is not the lifetime achievement award we’ve been led to believe. Think of the movie 13 Going on 30. Teenage me thought Jennifer Garner was the epitome of sophistication and accomplishment. By 30, I too would have a skyrocketing career, a beautiful but sensitive Prince Charming, solid best friends who knew me better than myself, and at least two walk-in closets. Or, if we consider our parents and grandparent’s generations, 30 meant a 30-year mortgage and at least two kids. What if I’m both childless and walk-in-closet-less? Have I failed?? Is this delayed adulthood??

No, things have just changed (as they are apt to do). The average age of first-time brides continues to climb (now 27.8), as does the age of first-time homeownership. And while the lack of checkboxes checked on our list of “Do by Age 30” makes us feel anxious and behind, the reality is we are better set up for future achievement by laying the careful and thoughtful groundwork today.

Future-oriented Millenials invest in 401(k)s and talk to therapists. Divorce rates drop as people consciously navigate the dating world, looking for a life partner, not just the first hot guy that compliments their bellybutton ring. You’ve probably experienced heartbreak, a family tragedy, or a serious step back in your career. Rather than viewing these as developmental delays, I choose to see these as natural course corrections that save me from future doom. Lose a job? Easier to find a new one now than be forced into early retirement (like my 55-year-old uncle who spent his entire career at GM and now does maintenance because no one will hire a near-retiree). And obviously, I would much rather get dumped by a loser guy now than come home to a note from my husband saying he really “doesn’t see himself as a family man anymore” and good luck with the kids!

Every step back today is two steps forward tomorrow, and if that means I learn the hard lessons now when I’m still ambitious, malleable, and can go with little sleep for at least a few days, then I embrace 30. Not just a milestone of what has happened, but as a solid anchor for what’s to come.

Even if that means I now take a precautionary Advil along with my birthday vodka-tonic.