Ive only ever known what it means to be young in a world that values youth.
When they graduated high school, so did I.
When they started their careers, so did I.
Thought Catalog Agency
When they turned 30, in some ways, so did I.
After years and years and years of anticipating iteven dreading itmy youth left me quietly.
There was no heartfelt goodbye, no bomb that left me reeling.
One day I was 20, and then suddenly, I was not.
I dont know if Im disappointed or not.
Twenty was different.
I was always hyper-aware of the days leading up to it, as if my childhood were ticking away.
The melancholy felt heavy, finding ways to weigh down every passing moment.
I firmly felt I was a teenager until I officially wasnt one.
I dont really remember my 20th birthday, though.
I imagine thats because I spent most of the day depressed and didnt necessarily feel very celebratory.
I dont remember any party, any gifts.
They were probably there, but the memory has been carved out from me, left behind to rot.
Just another year in the rearview.
Just another milestone to look back on and grieve.
When I told one woman I was 29, she did a double-take.
I would have guessed 21, she admitted.
But theres this strange, persistent anxiety that someday this is going to get me in trouble.
Im not entirely sure how to explain it.
At the time, Id been 22.
Will they be disappointed when they learn the truth?
Or, worse, will they be angry?
Ive only ever known what it means to be young in a world that values youth.
The clothes in almost every trendy store are made with me in mind.
Most popular TV shows are targeted toward my demographic.
I guess Im afraid of that moment when I realize Im no longer in that category.
When people are no longer empathetic to my problems or understanding of my mistakes or concerned with my potential.
Heres the thing: I know, deep down, that my worth isnt contingent on my age.
Im just afraid the rest of the world doesnt always know that.
I live here, within the constructs and constraints of my culture.
What am I supposed to do when it no longer makes room for me?
Almost everyone turns 30, I have to remind myself.
The curse of living is aging.
I guess it was just easy to pretend it would never happen to me.
Looking back, even with everything I did, life didnt go the way I expected it to.
I wasnt immediately given my dream job.
The name Id made for myself didnt seem to mean anything to anyone.
Sometimes it felt like all the work Id done before was for nothing.
Im told I cried when I turned 20.
I know for a fact I did when I turned 21.
I couldnt tell you why.
Maybe Id just grown tired of giving weight to the small devastation of growing older.
The first person who ever made me challenge that notion was my boss and mentor in Italy.
Your 30s are for actually enjoying it.
I wasnt sure if I believed her then.
I think I might be starting to believe her now, at least to some extent.
My first book will be published this yearjust not at 25, like I once thought it would.
Imdare I say ithappy.
But I dont feel the urge to join that mad dash toward greatness anymore.
Im not even entirely sure what greatness is supposed to be.
I love dinner parties with friends.
I love writing on Sunday mornings and reading on Monday evenings.
I love traveling and drinking fun cocktails and attending too many concerts.
I love thrifting and decorating my apartment.
I tried the whole greatness thing.
I worked really hard and I figured myself out.
Did I ever have to?
Im not always sure, but I cant deny that I ended up somewhere good.
And like my mentor promised, now Im ready to enjoy it.
Im ready to just be happy.
Why is Matty attracted to a woman whos literally mentally 13?
What kind of woman prefers to skip over their entire twenties for theirthirties?
It was really that last one that intrigued me.
Thirty always seemed to push too closely to the latter to be aspirational.
But that was young Jennas dream: to be 30, flirty, and thriving.
To keep moving forward and find something better along the way.
It was a wish Id never even considered before, not really.
Before he could respond, I already knew how I would answer the same question.
It was terrible and wonderful and somehow everything and nothing that I was promised.
I would never change a thing.
And to me, nothing sounds more beautiful.
