You know you’re in your 30s when you reach new levels of not giving a sh*t.
But you know you’re truly in your 30s when being unapolotegically yourself is the key to happiness.
Turns out, it’s not algebra like school taught us it was.
Once upon a time (thanks to the Daily Mail), being a woman over 30 meant that your life was over. Wrinkle cream was mandatory. Wearing a bikini was a crime. Your sole purpose was to breed. All there was to look forward to was the menopause (or some other ‘woman’ problem that was too much effort to research).
*And scene*
Perhaps the best part of the self-assuredness that comes with being in your 30s is what you choose to do with it.
Take my friends, for example, who have a ‘one size does not fit all approach’. One is an actress (#humblebrag) whose day job is a teacher, another is a working mum who doesn’t shy away from the enjoyment and hardship of parenting and careers, another recently hosted a Rihanna-impersonator for lunch (that’s a story for a different day).
They chant mantras like ‘my people pleasing days are over’ and ‘I don’t have a clue what I’m doing with my life and I’m okay with it’.
For me, my new found confidence has come in the form of sexual liberation.
*I’d stop reading now if you’re squeamish, a prude or my dad*
There’s nothing like saying ‘f*ck it, I’m going to embrace my maturity by signing up to a burlesque class’.
And there’s nothing like turning up to said class and declaring that you’re a ‘sexually liberated woman in 2024 and want to explore that’ and being met with cheers and whoops from like-minded individuals.
Meanwhile, my husband (who likes gardening and pottering around quietly) has fully supported me (quite right too) in this journey, with the reply: ‘I’m going to have to start wearing a crash helmet indoors, aren’t I?’
It’s time to re-write the narrative that life stops after 30. I started writing this blog in my 20s, when I was filled with worry. Several people told me that life gets so much better in your 30s. They were right. According to the people in my burlesque class, it gets even better after 35.
BRING IT ON.
Ps you know how your mind reminds you of embarrassing incidents just before bedtime? Yeah, that never changes .
The Life Crisis 