I have to admit that I enjoyed turning thirty. I know that FJ agrees with me and I’m fairly sure that there are other people out there too who think it’s kinda good to be this old. I actually feel like I know what I’m doing a lot of the time.
Do I feel like a grown-up? Not exactly, but I do feel competent in certain situations in a way I never did in my teens or twenties. I’m now older than the average age of death in the Middle Ages. My hair is turning blonde… well I henna it so it’s going silver under the red… natural highlights! I’ve got my first wrinkles and by and large I’m happy enough with them. I have a lot still to do with my life but I feel like I’ve done some good things already. Mostly my regrets are growing smaller as I get further away from them.
I’m not totally satisfied with my lot, there’s so much still to do, to aim for, but I am happy. Depression and Anxiety aside, when I’m in my right mind I’m happy. I am very much enjoying being in my thirties and knowing what I’m doing most of the time. I have no compulsion to ‘be an adult’, my house is still painted interesting colours and I’m currently typing this in patchwork dungarees so I don’t think there’s any need to worry I might lose something of my childlike enthusiasm for the world, but yeah, whilst I’m enthusiastic this competence I’ve acquired in my thirties is a welcome addition.