Thanks to terrifying internet algorithms, I can’t browse any website
without being inundated with headlines like, “Seven things you must
do before you turn 30!”; “10 meals you should have mastered in your
20s!”; and “6000 life skills you should have learnt by now you big
dumb-dumb because your time is almost up!!!!” Well, I’m about to
turn 30, and I’ve never backpacked solo around Europe or cooked
the ‘perfect’ roast chicken, and I reckon that’s OK. (If I’m honest,
I’ve never even cooked the ‘mediocre’ roast chicken.)
While I happily google “jumbo ice-cream cakes in the shape of
John Stamos’s head”, people assume I spend my days consumed
with dread about my upcoming 3-0. Old friends reminisce about
celebrating our 18th birthdays, sadly lamenting that the party is now
over. Colleagues rush to placate wrinkle-related concerns that I’ve
never actually expressed, and older folks chuckle, “Don’t stress!
You’re still a baby!” Sure, every birthday is one year closer to joining
Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky”, but the truth is, I couldn’t
be happier to leave my 20s behind.Like many people, my early adulthood was spent stressing about
fairly irrelevant things, such as: does that person hate me? Did
I make a fool of myself? And, can I pull off corduroy pants? Combinethat with bouts of significant mental health issues and BAM – you
have the perfect storm of fear and self-doubt. Sometimes you’re
forced to accept that life isn’t what you thought it would be, and
my 20s haven’t been very fun. But that’s all right! I’ve learnt from
all those speedbumps, and like my mum’s dog trying to get into a
sealed rubbish bin, I’ve challenged myself and triumphed. (For the
record, the answers to my earlier questions are: dunno, who cares,
and go for it.)
Those internet checklists are pervasive and baffling – does
something happen when you turn 30 that means you can no longer
travel overseas or learn how to salsa dance? Maybe the clock will
strike midnight on my birthday and both my legs will explode, or my
cerebrum will turn to dust. But that seems improbable (my older
friends still seem to have fairly sturdy gams – I’ve checked). What’s
more likely is that weird societal pressure is telling us we need to
have achieved certain things by a certain age, resulting in feelings
of regret or shame that don’t need to be there.
Getting to know yourself is a vital part of growing up, and you know
what? I couldn’t give two hoots about roasting a chook. When it
comes to travelling, a lot of experiences would have been wasted if
I’d tried to do them at 20, while riddled with insecurity – I know I’ll
appreciate them a lot more now, feeling comfortable in my own skin.
It’s better to be the only grey-haired backpacker loving every moment
than an awkward young adult doing it because they think they should.
Forty is the new 20, and 90 is the new 40, and 420 is the new 69, so
let’s just agree that numbers are meaningless and enjoy ourselves.Don’t get me wrong – I still have difficult days and insecurities
and moments when I wonder, “What am I doing?” But I feel better
equipped to handle these now, and little things don’t faze me quite
as much. I give less of a stuff about what other people think, and
it feels pretty darn good. At the risk of sounding like an overpriced
motivational mug, you live and learn, and I’m continuing to do
both. So, I’m excited to smooch the past decade farewell, and
I wish everyone else could see that, too. Now who’s going to make
me that ice-cream cake?the golden age
DEIRDRE FIDGE IS QUITE
OK WITH SAYING GOODBYE TO
HER 20s, ACTUALLY.
rant