It’s a pretty heavy subject to start my first blog post with but I was in the mood for a bit of a rant but also a little bit of a reflection.
In one month and one day, I will turn 30. When people asked me earlier in the year how I felt about turning 30, I was fine. Even a little bit smug. I was seeing someone, it was going really well. I thought it could have really gone somewhere, but unfortunately circumstances changed and things ended rather abruptly albeit pretty amicably.
Since that moment which was about a month ago now, I’ve begun to dread my birthday. The plan is to go to Manchester and celebrate in style with some of my best girls. This bit I can’t wait for - the outfit planning, the boozy train ride there, the inappropriate jokes, the piss-taking, the drunken dancing, even maybe a little bit of flirting, the debrief over some breakfast the next day. However, I’m not looking forward to my actual day, Sunday the 27th. I will be hung-over, craving all of the carbs and feeling those hangover blues in tenfold.
There are two reasons why I’m dreading it so much. The first being that I was supposed to spend this day with the aforementioned guy. This was my ideal kind of birthday, a night out with the girls, followed by a duvet day/hangover with junk food, some trashy TV and being looked after by a lovely man. Instead, I’ll be crying into my Domino’s meal deal at some X Factor contestant whose vocal talent is negligible but they have a great sob story. They just get to me every time.
The second reason is that I thought by this age I would have achieved more. I live in a house-share, my last relationship that lasted longer than six months was eight years ago, I can’t drive, haven’t ever travelled out of Europe and let’s not even mention my finances. I thought at 30, I would have it more together. I thought I’d be driving, own a house, be married, have a nice nest egg of savings and at least one child. That would probably all have been achievable if I hadn’t panicked after university and run away to London a.k.a. most expensive place to live in the world ever. But had I stayed at home in Yorkshire, I would have been bored. I’d be turning 30 wondering why I hadn’t achieved more in other ways. We always think that the grass is so much greener on the other side of the fence don’t we?
So, it’s time to focus on the things I have achieved and want to achieve rather than what society tells me I should. I have a degree, I’ve lived successfully in two other European countries, I might not have been out of Europe, but the fact I can afford a few smaller trips a year puts me in a fortunate position. I live in city that plenty of people even dream of just visiting, I have a stable job that affords a decent work/life balance, a good working environment and travel opportunities, and I am surrounded by great friends and family.
And as for those things I haven’t achieved…..
1. Kids – I was sat next to a couple around my age on the tube last week. Their baby had just had a poop explosion. It was smelly, on the mother’s hands and all over her lovely, white summer dress. All I could think was “So, glad I don’t have to deal with that.” I’m just not in any way shape or form to have children yet. I enjoy being selfish with my time and money too much for the time being. And if the time comes in ten years and it still hasn’t happened and the time has passed, will it be the worst thing in the world? Maybe or maybe not. It will just depend what else has happened in those ten years.
2. My Own Home – A 2 bedroom flat in Streatham is around half a million pounds. Seriously. If you choose to live in a city with eye-watering property prices, you have to sacrifice some things. I have a roof over my head with nice people in a nice area. I am grateful. I just wish there was more control for tenants in this country. Another rant for another day though. Also, when you buy a house, you don’t own it. The mortgage provider does. And if we suffer another financial crisis, how safe are any of us?
3. Relationships – Although, I don’t quite feel ready to put myself back out there to the Tinder masses just yet, I will at some point. I just need to remember, dick pictures and 1am drunken booty calls are not worthy of my time. Whilst not every date is not an interview for marriage potential, I do want to meet someone who is one my wavelength and gets my weirdness. I deserve more than being a stop-gap for someone who just wants to use me for a night.
As for learning to drive and improving my financial situation, these are ongoing battles and I will get there. I now have a small amount of savings and my credit card is decreasing – just don’t mention that bottle of wine I put on it last weekend. I also spent time searching and comparing driving instructors in South West London last week ready for when I’m back from my holidays in October.
Until I do get there though, I hope the journey is as fun as it has been up until now.
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