Surviving your 30s...the introduction

Someone played a cruel trick on me. Well, maybe not someone, but a group of someones...society, perhaps. When my mom turned 40, her friends gathered on the lawn holding a banner that said, “Lordy, Lordy, Marie is 40!” Why does a celebration of 40 have to include a ruddy rendition of Happy Birthday and funeral-themed decorations? Since then, I believed 40 was the beginning of the end. My mom didn’t look like she had one foot in the grave, but clearly that must be the case given the collective reaction of her inner circle towards this milestone.

There are those who say everything goes south at 40. For some, this is in references to their physical attributes. For others, emotional. For still others, it’s both. There are those who believe the cosmic hand you were dealt at birth is fully revealed by this age. You can still decide how to play, but forget about changing out your cards or expecting a shuffle. Want to start a new career? You can’t, your’re 40. Want to start a family? You can’t, you’re 40. Want to wear a backless dress to dinner and dance on the table after dessert? You can’t, you’re 40. Goodbye fun, freedom and the promise of possibility. Hello monotony, obligation and the promise of sagging skin. Forty may as well be a death sentence.

While I’m not there yet, the mere acknowledgement that I will indeed have to endure that day has loomed in my mind like an ominous, smirking troll preparing to pounce and ruin my life. In the midst of my 3rd decade, I’ve realized just how much my ill-conceived concept of 40 has shaped my opinion of 30. I once considered it a last hurrah for all things vibrant, exciting and beautiful. While 40 was the tomb, 30 was that final, deep gasp for air, where everything seems more colorful, clear and purposeful. Now, I’m a bit angry that everyone was so busy blasting warnings of 40 that the 30s were completely overlooked. Someone, or some group of someones, should have warned me. American Idol tried. They say life is pretty much over at 28!

This decade comes with so many changes, challenges and forked roads that we really do need some survival tips. Although I’m not quite half-way through my 30s, I have a pretty good idea of what I’m in for, based on the fact that I’m chin-deep in realizations right now. And ‘they’ say your life changes at 18. Ha! Another cruel joke.

Stay tuned for my tips for surviving your 30s....the first of which is: Apply the fashion rules.