People tend to trip out when they find out how old I truly am. (I'm 37, yo. I ain't trippin' but it is okay if you are.) Most people; and by "people" I mean women, make a huge deal about how old they are getting and hate the fact that the big Three Oh hit them. Yep, it hits like a runaway Mack truck, baby.
But yo, come closer. I have a little secret to tell you about your thirties. Don't fret, my millennial friend. These next ten years will be the best you have experienced yet.
As women in our twenties, we are way too worried about the status quo, doing what everyone else is doing and making sure we look incredible at all times. Our job at the Applebee's on the weekends is barely enough to cover the partying that will be accomplished the next week and Coachella is all we live for the whole year long. Living in a college dorm and eating ramen noodles every day isn't even an issue and the excitement over your best friend's "new" ride is newspaper worthy. (Yes, I mean that ride she purchased at a small used lot on the corner of Main Street that was poo brown and had the front bumper taped on with duct tape.)
So, do you see where I'm going with this?
Once that dreaded 30th birthday nears, your life will be on a way better path. In your thirties, life is much more stable. A steady career path is usually lined out, so much so that whoa...now you can buy a house, or maybe even a new car at an actual dealership. No more hooptie whip for the dirty thirty year olds. If you play your cards right, you don't have to live paycheck to paycheck either. The money you spend at the bar on a Friday night is chump change and won't phase you one bit. That's IF you even desire that kind of entertainment anymore. There is a lot to be said for a nice night in with a good group of friends, your pajamas, some snacks and a Bill Murray movie. Experiences become more important than those designer shoes that you'll wear once for three hours. Instead of posting up photos of you and the BFF grabbing avocado toast at a brunch spot near the farmer's market, you'll post photos traveling to Bali or Macchu Picchu, taking in everything the unfamiliar culture has to offer.
You’ll start to understand the idea of quality over quantity. For example, you’ll appreciate the way your hair looks MORE after a $70 haircut versus a $30 cut. Investing in good products such as Kevin Murphy, Amika, Redken, Living Proof, Evo, Bumble and Bumble, etc. instead of the usual Pantene or Herbal Essences will be commonplace and your hair will thank you for it.
Know what else will happen? You’ll have a more realistic view of politics. Instead of believing every single headline on Facebook, you’ll start to do your own investigative research and decide for yourself. This alone is enough reason to enjoy growing up.
Let’s change it. Let’s call it “growing up” instead of “growing old.” Has a much better ring to it, if you ask me.
For myself, learning to call a spade a spade was probably the hardest lesson I had to learn. In the end, though, that lesson was worth it. I have quality friends, not quantity. I don’t put up with people’s nonsense, and I’m pretty happy.
You’re gonna LOVE your thirties. I promise.