30 Going On 31



This time next week I'll be 31. Officially in my 30s.

Being in my 30s isn't something that I find particularly scary. I don't worry about age, it's just a number and I definitely don't look mine! But I do sometimes worry that I'm just not adulting as well as everyone else seems to be. I know we shouldn't compare ourselves to others, but it's human nature and thanks to social media, it's something I think we're all guilty of.

When I was 13, I pictured my 30-year-old self driving a family-sized car, married with a few kids, a kick-ass career, a pant suit work-wardrobe, and a big house with one of those sexy claw-foot tubs in the bathroom. I really want one of those.

But the reality is far from that. I have none of the aforementioned things. I still wear shirts with childish slogans printed on the front and live in a rented basement flat with a tub that has damp between the tiles and a shabby (not-so-chic) plastic shower curtain. It's a twofor tub.

Yep, it seems Jennifer Garner lied to us. There is no life-size pink dolls house that you can magically afford, no Mark Ruffalo waiting for you and no dance scene where the entire club joins you in a Thriller moment - I know because I've tried after too many glasses of Sauvignon Blanc!

So 30 isn't at all how I pictured it. But given that pant suits really don't work for me, I'd say that's a good thing! So why does society make me question my life choices?



Around this time of year we celebrate strong, brave, empowering women for International Women's Day - and rightly so. But what about the women who aren't changing the world, who aren't superheroes? The women who feel weak and vulnerable and insecure? 

At times it can seem like everyone around you is doing life better than you. They're hitting those societal milestones (getting married, buying first homes, having babies, getting promoted) with ease and it can be hard not to look at yourself and think 'fuck, I'm an almost 31 year old woman who spends most Friday nights sat in her unicorn onesie eating Biscoff straight from the jar while binging Dawson's Creek episodes.' Social media makes me feel like that's not good enough, but if you ask me I'm living my best life right here.

It's especially difficult not to judge myself when I'm repeatedly asked when I'm getting married, or when I'm going to start having kids. Like those are the only things that measure my success and happiness?

I've got a degree, a good job that I love, I've travelled and moved around, said yes to new adventures. I have a fantastic boyfriend who always supports me. We'll get to those other things in time but until then, I'm happy and content. I just may need to remind myself of that sometimes.

I think we're all guilty of looking at others' achievements and questioning our own. But we need to cut ourselves a bit of slack. We're all doing the best we can. Just have fun, do you and be happy.

Whether onlookers think I have it all or think I have nothing, I know I have everything I need. The rest will come. And maybe by 40 I'll finally have that claw-foot tub. But for now, I'm happy just being thirty, flirty, thriving and fucking fabulous.

Well, for the next week at least.


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