The irrational tragedy of turning 30
Turning 30 is seen as this final stretch where our lives change definitively, and because of that, there are certain things we must achieve beforehand, as once we hit 30, opportunities will have run out. Finding that special someone becomes impossible; the career of your dreams fades into the realm of fantasy; and no matter what, if you don't “make it” before 30, everything that follows will be monotonous, predictable, and hopeless.
Not only in our environment but also in the content we consume and in art, this tragic idea of turning 30 is deeply ingrained. I don’t even need to list examples because we can all think of at least one movie or series where the characters are dealing with the anxieties that come with this age — something I personally find quite irrational.
Aging terrifies many people. And I get it. The clock is constantly ticking. The system we live in is governed by the concept of time, and indeed, there are opportunities that might slip through our fingers as we reach a certain age. Or so we believe. Or have been made to believe. Do these opportunities really depend on our age, or rather on our decisions? Today, I understand that turning 30 is not the end but the beginning of our lives.
It may sound just as exaggerated to say that life begins at 30 as it is to claim it ends at this age. In the end, it all comes down to our perception and the experiences we’ve had up to that point. It could also be seen as just having another birthday and becoming older.
Personally, I’ve never felt so good about myself, both physically and emotionally; so complete, and most importantly, with such understanding and acceptance of who I am and what steps lie ahead in my life.
For me, my twenties felt more like the thirties portrayed in media: a phase of disconnection, feeling lost, and exploration, where I had the chance to discover what aligned with my values and what didn’t. Today, that phase feels like practice for life itself — a time of experimentation, effort, tragedy, anxieties, and depression. Of course, I didn’t realize it at the time because life was simply happening, but all those experiences paved the way for my thirties to begin on a high note.
We need more art, more films, and novels that talk about our twenties without focusing on characters dreading turning 30.
What’s curious is that when I look around, I can’t help but notice that the thirties carry this air of excitement and prosperity, not just for me but for those around me as well. I don’t even think this is generational. When talking to older people and relatives, they remember their thirties positively, filled with personal growth and learning.
Maybe this fascination comes from reaching an age where you’re a complete person with a fully developed frontal lobe, and the questions that arise trigger countless doubts, often accompanied by nostalgia, guilt, or regret. But I think we need to talk more about the positive side of this stage, not the opposite.
I’m still young. I have life experience. The chance to be independent. To keep learning, traveling, and experiencing. I have the physical strength to do amazing things with my body. I have time to make amends and choose the right path for me. I have my whole life ahead of me. Why should I feel, or believe, that this is it, that the novelty is over?
Maybe when I reach 35 or 40, I’ll understand it better? Maybe the real crisis is yet to come?
A year ago today, I turned 30. At the time, I was in Huatulco, having an amazing time with my life partner, staying at a hotel where our only worry was heading down to eat, drink, swim in the pool, and then shower to make it to the Grease musical show on time. During those days, I thought a lot about writing about the experience — maybe one of those generic lists like “30 Life Lessons I’ve Learned Before Turning 30” or a quick reflection to commemorate the moment. But for some reason, perfectionism consumed me, and I couldn’t write a single word, even though I had been journaling for years.
Today, I feel satisfied having written this, even if I’m lying in bed late at night with a slight buzz from alcohol and words don’t come as easy.
Thanks for reading.