So I just turned 30 years old and I have been patiently waiting for the breakdown to hit me. But it is yet to arrive and I’m starting to wonder if I have been privy to lies all my life, that point towards the beginning of the end when you turn 30. I mean, I am vaguely aware of my slow progress towards eventual death, where my ovaries dry up, everything sags and I start to look like an unlovable crow, but I think my worrying about it now would be premature, right?
I mean I won’t lie, I know I’m older than I was a year ago, and at some magic age when I’m supposed to have life revelations, but they haven’t happened yet. So I’m going to make them happen. This week I’ve decided to have a revelation about relationships and how your approach to them inevitably changes as you get older.
For example, as teenagers we are horny, puberty-ridden, hopeful bundles of insecurity, clutching on to the first whiff of attention we get, sometimes from the object of our affection, but not always. Then you get to your twenties and you might get it into your head that you need to be a grown up, and getting into a serious adult relationship is the way to do that. But you never get that far because you keep somehow ending up with the people who give you the most fun and the worst times in equal measure. These people are actually very bad for you, not to mention anti-relationship; and you will likely spend a lot of your twenties crying.
And then your thirties roll by and if you’re anything like me, your approach to relationships is not unlike your Amazon shopping; you browse the things you need and the things you want, but never actually purchase anything. OK bad analogy. But, if by 30 you’re not one of the many people you know in a serious relationship, you have to fight the practical thoughts that plague your very adult mind. The ones that tell you that you should just date someone, anyone, to make it seem, at least to your parents, as if you have your life in order.
You find yourself re-evaluating old loves, recognising previous relationship patterns, and deciding on how to change them if they need to be changed. You don’t really get nervous around boys anymore, and when you do, it’s a good sign. If you’ve been paying attention for the last 30 years, you know yourself pretty well by now, and you especially know and accept what you can’t stand. Life might still be hard and confusing and a bit of an uphill struggle, but at least you’re not dating men who wear Kangol hats anymore. See, silver linings are everywhere.
I hope the rest of this month is as revelatory as this post has been. AKA, mildly revelatory.
Image credit: Woman by Lluisa Iborra from the Noun Project