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As I approach another birthday, I find myself reflecting on the nature of aging. While this year’s celebration isn’t a milestone, it serves as another reminder of the passage of time – one of those birthdays that feels simultaneously meaningful and inconsequential, often referred to as a “something” birthday.
A few years back, I penned my thoughts on the enchanting age of 33, and upon revisiting that piece, I realized that not much has shifted. The experience of being thirtysomething today closely resembles that of a few years ago, though perhaps with a few more fine lines. It seems that this phase of life is about embracing who you are in the best possible way. It’s a time of settling into your existence and gaining clarity.
Being thirtysomething means knowing that there used to be a show titled Thirtysomething, even if you’ve never actually seen an episode. You can name several members of the Brat Pack, but not all of them. You might forget your child’s first-grade teacher while still recalling the name of your own.
It entails reheating cups of coffee only to find them forgotten in the microwave. It’s going to bed at 9 PM on a Saturday and feeling a sense of satisfaction. It’s waking up at 7:30 AM on those rare mornings when you can actually sleep in.
At this age, regular visits to a colorist become a norm. You know the perfect shade of lipstick that complements your complexion, yet you occasionally experiment with bold choices like hot pink—because why not? Thirtysomething is about understanding what truly matters and what doesn’t, albeit with the occasional mix-up.
It’s remembering where you were on September 11, 2001, attending more birthday parties and baptisms than weddings, yet facing an overwhelming number of funerals. A moment of panic may wash over you when your mother’s name appears on your phone unexpectedly.
There are times when everything aligns, and life feels full of potential, balanced by moments when it feels overwhelmingly difficult. It’s about shedding a few tears in the shower or indulging in cookie dough—sometimes in celebration, sometimes in solace.
This phase can also bring feelings reminiscent of adolescence, as you sometimes wonder if life will ever stop feeling like middle school. You might stifle a laugh when your child accidentally uses a curse word in public, and finding humor in those little mishaps becomes a daily ritual.
Thirtysomething is about cozy pajamas, comfortable bras, and shoes that don’t pinch. You find yourself battling pimples and wrinkles at the same time. Contrary to popular belief, you might discover that yoga is not for you—and that’s perfectly fine.
It involves comforting little ones after nightmares while lying awake for hours afterward. You may still grapple with the difference between “laying” and “lying,” but you find you don’t mind. You feel both youthful and mature, with friends spanning different decades.
This age brings the challenge of politely saying “no,” and you might often catch yourself saying “I don’t know” or “ask your partner” more frequently than anticipated. It’s a little disheartening not to be invited to a gathering, even when you secretly wouldn’t have wanted to attend.
Date nights might involve chain restaurants and discussions about finances, but you gain a clearer sense of who your people are and where your safe spaces lie. You become those supportive pillars for others, too. Perhaps your body has changed with a little extra pooch, saggy breasts, and fuller thighs, yet you embrace these changes as you feel your heart swell with love.
At this stage, you may feel a touch wiser, possessing more common sense, and a keen awareness of just how many hours remain until bedtime.
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In summary, being thirtysomething is a complex blend of nostalgia, growth, and acceptance, woven into the fabric of daily life and parenting.