10 brutal but beautiful truths about turning 30.

By ALISSA WARREN

I love birthdays. I celebrate them with child-like enthusiasm.

So when my thirtieth birthday crept up, I thought I’d be just as buzzy because I didn’t think turning 30 would be a big deal.

WRONG.

Every few years there’s an age that gives us a little slap. 28? 32? 40?

30 was mine.

And these are the realities … Beware: some of it’s brutal. Beautiful, but brutal.

1. Your body will never be the same.

It’s not just wrinkles. It’s boobs. It’s skin. It’s joints.

The night a woman turns thirty, a boob fairy comes to sprinkle a little magic on her chest. It’s not a ‘sprinkle’, it’s more like a ‘dump’. It’s called gravity. Of course, the sprinkling goes on for a few years prior to her thirtieth. But it’s that birthday morning, when she wakes and realises they’re just hangin’ in there. Literally. Personally, now that I’ve namaste’d the ‘situation’, I feel it’s not nearly as embarrassing – or horrifying – as I’d thought it would be.

This is the reality: boobs in your thirties begin to look well … a little well-worn. They’ve seen many cossies, good bras, dodgy bras, an occasional push up bra and a much-treasured sports bra. The perk is diminishing. Nipples are pointing at the floor (not directly, but the floor nonetheless), thanks to a gruelling round of breastfeeding or simply just being. Even for women who seek a little ‘assistance’ – they’re still not the same. Never will be.

Freckles. There’s a collection of freckles appearing all over my skin. I look like an empty Milo glass. Pigment, blemishes, sun spots.  But I haven’t sunbaked for years?! Damage done. BB cream has become my favourite thing.

2. People nag

About more kids, no kids, moving house, renting, getting married. It’s relentless.

3. Once you’re 35, you can’t go on Contiki anymore.

Not good. Not bad. Just sayin’ some people might think you’re old, not fun and a potential pest.

4. Having a cheese platter doesn’t feel like a grown up thing to do.

You. Enjoy. Cheese. Not cheese sticks. Or just cheese on a sandwich. Proper wedges of cheese from a cheeseboard. Cheeses that have a taste and a name.

5. Bye-bye bullshit.

The tolerance-o-meter works. Finally. There’s less time spent trying to figure out what people are really saying, what they want to actually say and why they won’t say exactly what they think. You feel it. Really, truly feel it. And that’s enough. Deciphering; complete. Love it.

6. There’s less black and white. 

Most things are a spectrum of grey. You’re more certain about not being certain when it comes to the big issues. And that’s a good thing.

7. Celebrity offspring you remember being born are dating or going into rehab. 

Demi Moore and Bruce Willis’ kid: in rehab. The Beckham kids: dating. Even Hugh Grant has started to look old. What?

8. Friendships are real. 

Circles get smaller and better. And realer. You start to make wise choices about who you’ll surround yourself with – friends you love and who love you. Everything is entered with ‘long term’ in mind. And life is whole lot sweeter because of it.

9. Career. 

You have a career. You’ve had JOBS. And you’ve been working for a long time. Over a decade for most of us. Doesn’t matter if you’ve loved it or not. It’s made you who you are and you can look back on a big chunk of time and think, ‘that helped make me’. The best bit? You’re priming yourself for kicking bigger goals. There’s bigger and better moments coming and you know it. Hi-5 to that.

10. You can sort it out. 

Pretty much. This is the ‘not everything is about me’ decade. There’s often an ageing family member, kids (yours or not) or a partner who have made you realise it’s less about you. More about everyone else. In a good way.

Turning 30 is sort of relieving. People take me seriously. I take me seriously.

To keep in line with my being brutally honest, I can genuinely say that this is one of the first times I’ve been completely comfortable being me.

Being thirty makes you old enough. Being thirty makes you young enough. It really is the most perfect decade. It’s a decade filled with great love, baby love and sisterly love. There’s so much time, there’s never enough time. Life in my thirties is fuller. In every way.

What do you love about being in your thirties?