What My 30’s Have Meant to Me (so far)

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Later this year I’ll be turning 35 years old and I’ve come to realise that I’ve learnt more about myself in the last four and a half years than I have in the previous thirty years. It may seem like an uneventful age but actually having spent some time thinking about it I’ve realised what my 30’s have meant to me so far and what I hope the rest of my thirties will bring.

To grow older, to experience and learn more, to spend time doing things that are worthwhile is a privilege – one that I am grateful for.

What My 30’s Have Meant to Me (so far)

As I think about my 30’s I realise how much I regret about my 20’s.

I spent a number of years surrounded by people who were negative, bullying and ultimately damaging to my happiness and mental health.

I got a job I enjoyed but then became stagnant by avoiding the pressure and anxiety of looking and applying for a new job.

I allowed myself to be an emotional crutch for others but failed in supporting myself.

Ultimately, I entered my third decade feeling like a failure, feeling like I’d failed to achieve and accomplish anything worthwhile. Then I realised that this is the point. What is worthwhile? Who decides what is an achievement?

When I read or hear about someone’s recent achievement, be it an award win, a promotion or a personal milestone, my interest always focuses on their age. Then I mentally calculate the differences in our ages and work out how long I have left to potentially reach that goalpost. I know this is madness, especially when I have no interest in these achievements for my own life – I’m not an actress so won’t ever win an Oscar, I hate sport so won’t be bringing home an Olympic medal, I have no desire to be CEO of a major company so why do I look at other people and feel a pang of resentment?

It isn’t even jealousy. It’s a feeling that I’ve wasted time and maybe not put enough energy into the things and people that make me happy.

The rise of anxiety amongst Millennials is no secret, stress is at an all time high for the under forties, pressure to achieve, to get those exam results, earn that degree, get that job that pays well from day one, to get that much-desired promotion, to turn life into a competition, and then on top of all that there’s the pressure to find that elusive life-long partner and then create the next generation.

Success seems to be achievable at a younger and younger age, social media and the internet has made it so that children are creating businesses and fanbases at an age when my biggest interests were listening to the latest Boyzone album and watching Buffy on TV.

When I was twenty-one I had major surgery, I’ve mentioned it here before but it was a big deal. The fact is I could have died. I didn’t – Thankfully. The point is that I didn’t come away with an overwhelming feeling that I needed to grab life by the horns and run away with it, to live life to the fullest. Instead I concentrated on recovering and then returning to my small, uneventful life and simply continuing with what I thought was right.

It wasn’t.

I slowly came to the realization that the people around me were moving on. Friends and relatives close to my own age were having families – of course this is normal and I don’t begrudge them this happiness, but it’s difficult when I have no desire to get married or have children of my own and I also don’t have a huge interest in other people’s children.

I started to think about the various aspects of my life and realised that there were some major things missing. I don’t mean children or huge groups of friends but things that would be considered insignificant to other people: hobbies, travel memories and things that I could look forward to.

I had spent the whole of my twenties – literally an entire decade – doing what I thought other people expected of me, what I thought would look good and responsible to other people, when in fact those people weren’t really that bothered by what I was doing, they were (quite rightly) concentrating on their own lives.

This is why I started travelling…and this blog. I needed to find something I enjoyed, something I could become passionate about, something I could look forward to.

This is what my 30’s have meant to me so far, I’ve realised that life isn’t a competition and I am not failing at it.

I may not be on the career ladder.

I may not have a huge pool of friends and an exciting social life.

I may not be earning the big pay cheque.

I may not even be able to fly business class and stay in luxury hotels…

…but I am living a life that I am happy with. Content. Comfortable. This is not a bad thing. I have no reason to look at other people and wonder why some young graduate on their first day at work is earning more than I do. I have no reason to look at some young influencer and wonder why their social media following allows them to travel the world like a supermodel. I have no reason to wonder why everyone else seems to make friends so much easier than I do.

I go to work, do a job I (mostly) enjoy and like (most of) the people I work with.

I have a cat who makes me smile every day.

I have memories from trips that I’ve loved, and plans for future trips that I cannot wait for.

I write a blog that I enjoy, it keeps me busy, gives me focus but I don’t put huge pressure on myself to turn it into a business.

For the rest of my 30’s I have few ambitions, I have no career aspirations but I hope to continue to travel and experience the world, to continue blogging and progress with my writing and photography…

…but honestly if the next five and a half years have gone as well as these first four and a half, then I’ll be happy. And that’s what matters.

What have your 30’s meant to you?

Let me know in the comments.