Nineteen And Ten

Sep 30, 2016

I turn 30 in 351 days. There’s nothing like an impending “big birthday” to make you realise that your life is happening now, even if you chose to spend it darting across the road while attempting to catch a Pokémon, Instagraming your lunch or willing Friday to roll around again. The exact moment when I realised that my life was actually happening hit mid yoga class (how basic I know) when my teacher made a casual comment that “this isn’t a practice run for something else – this is it” while trying to coax us into a particularly challenging asana rather than flopping into the floor.  I flopped onto the floor, physically and mentally having no other option.

This is it and there’s no instruction manual, no spoiler alerts, no this-is-how-you-do-this-but-this-is-how-you-do-that. There’s no right way to tell someone you like them and no wrong way to tell someone that you don’t feel the same. There are no checklists or tick boxes. No age by which you have to get things done by, no age when you should feel like you’re finally doing it right.

29 year old me may not have it all figured out but 29 year old me has experiences and memories and that mix of insanely good times mixed with slightly less good times which makes me feel like an adult, finally, years after my driving licence told the supermarket cashier that I was one. I didn’t feel like a grown-up when I graduated, when I started my job or even when I got the keys to my flat – those supposed markers of “adulthood: you have reached your destination”.  
It’s impossible to pin-point when you grow-up but one day you realise you’re there without quite being able to explain how you got there. Maybe it’s the realisation hat I no longer drift off to sleep worrying whether I’ve said something wrong or done something wrong and whether this person likes me or that person doesn’t. Or maybe it’s wondering how how I’ve gone from from picking up my skincare in the teenage aisle in Boots to buying $80 anti-aging serums? Where was that sweet spot between being a fresh-faced youngster and being a near 30 year old woman? When do people stop pointing out your youth and inexperience and start asking you if you’re married rather than if you merely have a boyfriend?

The next 351 days aren’t going to involve a “30 before 30” because my goals are less quantifiable and I don’t want to swim with dolphins anyway. Worrying about not being where I “should” be isn’t going to serve me, it’s going to help me live in the here and now. I cut myself some slack this summer and let some of my silly self-imposed rules slip and…it was fun. Lots of fun. Letting go and not over-thinking seem to be the key to y’know, actually enjoying this being alive lark – why didn’t someone tell me that sooner? The next 351 days are going to be about living each little moment, making memories and spending time with the people who I can’t imagine having been without for some or all of the last 29 years.

As Elena Waldorf said to Blair in the first episode of Gossip Girl “you will never be more beautiful or happy when than you are right now. I just want you to make the most of it“. Elena, I will, minus Chuck Bass and a Hermes Birken on my arm and I’ll ditch the headache-inducing hair band while I’m at it. Life’s too short.