How I REALLY feel about turning 30

Ahhh, 30.

I’ve scraped by my twenties relatively unharmed by society's questioning gaze. I knew what I was supposed to be chasing, and I chased it with blind ambition: college degree, corporate job, and a New York City mailing address. 

I worked hard.

I pursued part-time jobs, internships, and extracurriculars that would secure me a fluorescent-lit desk in Corporate America after graduation. By 24, I was working at Google; yet somehow I still felt “behind”. 

If you asked me back then, 24 was the new 30.

I remember longingly flipping through the Forbes “30-Under-30” lists from the college library, wondering how I might find myself on such a docket someday. Hilariously, that year’s cover star was the now-infamous Elizabeth Holmes. Now, in 2024, I laugh thinking to myself how I drooled over her feature; shoulders drooped, feeling defeated that I had no good reason to become a college dropout. She found her path so early. Where was mine? 

Now, at nearly 30, I have the wisdom to know that those lists are mostly fluff (or worse, and in Elizabeth’s case, scams), but still, I was driven by this need to shine, to prove myself, to get on someone’s list - and collect as many gold stars as I could along the way. First born much? 

At 25, I read “The Defining Decade” and suffered a slight panic attack. I felt that the sun was moving too quickly over the horizon of my twenties, and I was afraid that I would blink, wake up, and be 30 with nothing to show for myself. 

Well, reader, I didn’t make it onto the Forbes “30-Under-30 list,” AND that’s okay. I’ve had a decade’s full of experiences that I wouldn’t trade for the world. 

I’ve stayed out ‘till the sun comes up. I’ve had a whole career. I left that career. I’ve dated, I’ve loved, I’ve lost. I’ve spent too much money lining the pockets of  NYC psychics, I’ve driven 15+ hours with my best friend to see a band we could have seen in Brooklyn, I got COVID at a Justin Bieber concert (worth it), I’ve learned some hard financial lessons (never forget the year I found out I owed $20K to the IRS!), I’ve made some fashion faux-pas, I’ve gone skinny dipping, I’ve evicted a family of pigeons from my patio, I’ve been awkward, I’ve been charming, I’ve been trouble. I’ve been loved, I’ve been mad, and I’ve been in therapy. I’ve been bored. I’ve cut my hair. I’ve gotten tattoos. I’ve even picked my favorite freckle. 

By this point, a mere ~19 days before my 30th birthday (but who’s counting), I’ve accumulated enough experiences to assure my younger self that we’re leaving this decade with PLENTY to show (and some well-earned battle scars to prove it). 

This frenzy of grinding, dating, and chasing has shielded me from the pesky cocktail-hour questioning line: " When are you going to settle down?” “Are you thinking about kids?” “Is it New York or nowhere?” “Are you going to freeze your eggs?” 

In the social settings. where those questions were likely to come up, I’d beat them to the punch (whoever “they” were) by excitedly yapping on about my latest escapades, probably exhausting my conversational company to the point where they didn’t even want to open the pandora’s box that was my POV on having kids (and thank God for that, it’s complicated). 

As I pucker up, ready to kiss 30 on the nose, I’m finally succumbing to the cacophony of inquiries about how I feel about turning 30. 

The Question is usually wedged in the middle of otherwise unremarkable conversations, sometimes even whispered conspiratorially as if I’m about to join a secret society (that everyone knows about, and if they’re honest, fear).

Luckily for me, - my whole identity (and brand) hinges on my obsession with deep, philosophical reflection, even on the most seemingly irrelevant experiences of my life. 

So, let me go on the record and answer the big question: how am I really feeling about turning 30? 

In true Leo fashion, my predominant emotion is excitement. 

This birthday feels major.

I’m excited to fall in love, get stronger, write a book (maybe???), get published somewhere other than this newsletter, see Brightsiding grow, live a little slower, enjoy my food, watch good movies, and savor the unfolding of my next decade. 

As I reflect on all of the places that the blind ambition of my twenties brought me, I can’t even imagine where I’ll be led by channeling all of that energy into a type of work that’s in pursuit of what really lights me up. For example, I recently took on a part-time job at a beautiful store in my neighborhood. At this store, they burn the same candle as the boutique I worked at when I was 20 (Seda France Japanese Quince), which feels like some sort of cosmic wink as I reconnect with what I truly love: being around beautiful things, chatting with people as they filter in and out, and working on my writing.

Last year, when I was at my lowest point at Google, I’d walk down Orchard Street in the early mornings and daydream about doing exactly this.

I’m happier coming to work in this shop than I was any day in Corporate America. That awareness only amplifies my excitement because, finally, I’m taking my own happiness into account when making choices about my future. I’m not just following the path that will look the best on paper (thank god) because now I’ve learned to say fuck the gold stars. 

There’s also a tinge of melancholy, a true feeling of bittersweet release as I loosen the grip on this decade.

A few Sundays ago, while out to dinner with my cousin, who’s 24, I walked myself home for a quiet night of watching The Office. Simultaneously, she was headed out on a date with her neighborhood crush. She texted me the next day to tell me how they stayed out late drinking Dirty Shirleys at 169 bar, and I was hit with a wave of unfamiliar melancholia and nostalgia for my previous self, as I realized that nights like those are a pretty special and isolated experience reserved for when you're 24.

I have so many memories of doing just what she did—staying out late on a school night just because, knowing that my young body would burn through any potential hangover within a few hours the next morning. I’ll cherish those memories always, and I'll also cherish my newfound appreciation for a reasonable bedtime and a clear head in the morning. Oh, the joy of earned maturity.

I’m interested to see what different flavors of spontaneity and romance my thirties bring; I have a feeling they’ll shift from the sticky-sweet sugar of Maraschino cherries to something with a little more nuance and depth, like ripe peaches. 

Another feeling I have is curiosity.

I feel more responsible than ever to make good choices for my future self, which is new. Twenty-year-old me didn’t see a ton of value in spending time considering my actions or where they would lead. Why would I, when I could sprint with the fervor of racehorse-with-something-to-prove toward whatever everyone else was after? Now, though, having spent the past few months slowing my roll and adjusting to my “new life,” I’m really curious about where the lessons I’ve learned + work ethic + crystal clear definition of my values will lead me. I have a loose vision but a firm faith, and I’m totally up for some cosmic surprises. 

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little scared. Not because I grew up in a culture that tries to convince women that nothing good happens after 30, but because, well, I just quit a very stable tech job to write and help people change their mindset. I was really good at following “the path,” until I wasn’t. As I chart my next course - and by that, I mean create the course as I go - there’s certainly some fear of the unknown and a healthy dose of self-doubt. Fear is a really shitty thing to feel, but I’m learning to normalize it and finding new ways to stay grounded in my faith because, hey, fear is powerful.

To make the final countdown as fun as I can, I made a list of twenty things I want to do before turning 30 in a few weeks. Some of the highlights include taking a surf lesson, hosting an Uno Night at 169 bar (this is on the calendar; email me if you want the invite!!), and learning my barista’s name (he’s cute!). You can see the full list here.

Holly and I have a blowout celebration planned, and some of my best friends will be in town to help me ring in my new year & decade.

As always, thank you for being here - can’t wait to continue sharing what I learn along the way.

BIG XO!!!

PS: My friend Jamin was on the Brightsiding podcast this week and we had the most beautiful conversation. Give it a listen!

I don’t have a TV in my apartment, but I’m thinking about getting one just so I can put it on this: