I have always absolutely hated my birthday. Every single year the 14th of June slowly edges closer and with it comes an overwhelming sense of dread.
‘What do YOU want to do?’ asks every single person in my inner circle as I sweat profusely and suddenly feel as though I’ve never wanted to do anything remotely interesting in my life ever, before answering with ‘Haha I don’t mind, whatever everyone else wants to!’’ – without fail, every year.
As a professional people pleaser, it’s all too much responsibility. Organising someone else’s birthday? Pff, what a breeze. Having to admit that I want to do something and hope that others enjoy it? I certainly think not.
And there’s the crushing feeling that rots in the pit of my stomach – have I made enough of the past year? Hell, have I made enough of my entire life up until this point.
And this year is even worse. Why? Because I’m turning 30.
Yup, the big 3-0, the big old milestone that says ‘sorry, but your decade to be an absolute chaos machine is over and you should appear as a semblance of a functioning adult’.
Accepting that my twenties are over has been hideous and there’s no shortage of people in my life who’ve hit 30, 40, 50 upwards and had minor (and major) meltdowns of suddenly entering the next chapter of their life.
But why? Why are these milestone birthdays so damn difficult?
At 20, I entered my new decade by sweating it out in my favourite nightclub and having an afters that the police shut down. I was full of hope and excitement and ready for it all to happen, my teens had been a cesspit of high school, bullying and trauma – the only way was up as far as I was concerned.
But I had also naively thought that by 30 I’d have a massive rock on my finger, a brood of kids and own a house (the cost of living crisis didn’t exist in my fantasy unfortunately).
It turns out I’m not alone in the fear of not having hit milestones. According to a 2022 UK survey by charity Relate, a whopping 77% of millennials and 83% of Gen Z-ers feel the pressure to reach certain life ‘milestones’.
After asking Twitter users how they felt about turning 30, one thing was very clear – many of us freaked the fuck out.
“I panicked, cancelled my birthday party plans and just went to the coast for the weekend with my partner. As soon as I turned 30 everything was fine and glorious, but the initial ‘oh god I should be married, have children, own a house, aka have my shit together’ was VERY real,” one commented.
“It felt very weird, up until I was about to be 29, I never even thought about it that much or felt bad about my age, but as 30 approached I felt a bit scared and like life was passing by too quickly,” added another.
And, as if they were living inside my brain, another user dropped the bombshell: “I felt I hadn’t achieved enough compared to friends and should be more grown up.”
In reality I don’t want any of the things that I’m pressuring myself to have already achieved – so why the stress?
Surprise, Surprise: Societal Expectations
“Thirty can feel like a watershed age, where the expectations placed on women can come into focus, and anxiety can replace our sense of being carefree,” clinical psychotherapist, Dr Jo Gee tells me.
“Perceived societal pressures to settle down, have children and be in a ‘concrete job’ are often keenly felt with the change of decade. This runs alongside biological changes for women, which can lead to a general decline in fertility, in turn creating a sense of urgency in women reaching 30.”
Ah, good old fashioned societal pressures, who’da thought it? Of course, I’ve been taught my entire life that my body is a big ticking clock that’s running out of eggs and that I’m going to become a haggard old bag while my male-counterparts become silver foxes. Why wouldn’t I fear hitting a milestone age?
However, as the pros point out, the fact of the matter is that there aren’t any set rules for where you’re meant to be in life by 30 and that’s why it can be so overwhelming scary.
“I was terrified, had a meltdown that I didn’t have the white picket life… so I quit my job and moved to Scotland on the day of my 30th. Gave up my career to work in a bar and NEVER LOOKED BACK.”
“For those who go through conventional educational systems, the first two decades of life come with built-in milestones. From starting school, to graduation and landing their first job, most people go through milestones together, at a predetermined time,” says Gabriela Serpa Royo, Behavioural Analyst at Canvas8.
As Gabriela puts it, turning 30 actually marks the start of your first whole decade without that structure and ‘not only is progress not linear, but it’s not necessarily cumulative.’
Because we’ve always been taught to follow certain linear ‘life’ guidelines, our thirties (and upwards) assume disproportionate importance, Gabriela explains.
“The media and society have conditioned people to expect linearity from life — 30 is a reckoning with the unlikelihood of that happening,” she says.
Quite simply, life never plays out as we expect it. So what can we do to stop all the panic about turning a ‘milestone’ age?
Reflect Instead Of Mourning
According to Dr Gee, the worst thing you can do is mourn the years that’ve gone by. Instead, it’s a time to reflect and look at the positives.
“Looking back over our 20s can have a cathartic effect,” she explained. “Analyse your strengths, increased resilience, and the things you’ve learnt over the past decade.”
For someone who hates to give any self-praise ever, this is a big ask. But, as much as it pains me to say it, there’s some serious truth to what Dr Gee has to say.
OK, deep breath.
In my twenties, I fought my way through a heinous chronic illness and its symptoms, which I now live with well-managed. I packed up my life in Edinburgh, moved to London, did six years in the big smoke before embracing the change of moving again and building a life back in Scotland. I battled serious depression and at one point didn’t think I’d actually live to see the age I’m now panicking about. I lived my dream of writing for some of the world’s biggest publications, and landed the best gig I could ask for as I sit and write this now as HuffPost UK’s lifestyle editor.
““I was terrified, then a friend told me ‘but darling, what are you worried about? 30s are your 20s with money!’ which puts things into perspective.””
I’m surrounded by an army of friends who’ve taught me more about love and support than I could have ever imagined and who’ve helped me laugh through all the different challenges I’ve faced. I was fucking skint but I slowly got out of the overdraft I’d dragged around for years. I had my heart shattered more times than I could count but came back each time stronger. I’m still working on knowing my worth in therapy, because I want to be a better person, for me.
Hmmm, it’s quite a change from lying on the sofa, being dramatic and wailing that the best years of my life are past me.
And, as Dr Gee reminds us: “It can feel empowering to reject cultural and societal pressures for where we ‘should be’ by the age of 30.”
It’s Just The Beginning, After All
Her advice checks out. For every message I got on Twitter of someone speaking about the dread of turning 30, it was matched with another that was full of optimism:
“My 30s have been great though - I’m more comfortable in myself and I’ve settled down. It’s just a number, focus on carving your own path and enjoying life. Everything figures itself out in time!”
“Thrilled! I felt so powerful – I got my first taste of those ‘too old to give a shit’ vibes, I started to let go of silly worries like ‘what if i don’t complete every life goal in my first decade of adulthood’ – 30 isn’t old, society just makes us think it is.”
“I was terrified, then a friend told me ‘but darling, what are you worried about? 30s are your 20s with money!’ which puts things into perspective.”
“I felt great - like I’d come into my own; found my sense of self and accepted who I am. Honestly it’s changed the way I show up, speak up and secure my future… I think it’s because I’m tired of living for someone else (20s are your people pleasing years) and I’m living for me and my body.”
The reality of this all? Growing old is a privilege, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. Do I feel like a better version of myself than I did at 20? Christ, yes. Is my life less chaotic than it was then? Also yes. Have I got it all figured out? I’m nowhere close and that’s okay.
My twenties were actually, when I think about it, pretty unstable for a lot of the time. I had a lot of doubt, a serious lack of self-awareness and confidence – quite simply, I was very much in the swing of ‘growing up.’
I’m not sure if I banged my head mid-way through writing this but suddenly the prospect of having a whole new decade opened to me is actually quite exciting?
It’s OK that the story I’m writing for my next decade isn’t full of societal expectations. My 30s are just another chapter, not the book closing for good.