A few months ago we 30 somethings were asked by 20 somethings whether we miss being 20. To which there was a chorus of ‘hell no!’ While the 20 somethings were obviously taken aback by our united response, we were clearly amused. It’s not that we didn’t enjoy our 20s, but the 30s are simply better. So what makes the 30s so awesome?
One of the biggest reasons is financial stability. And I’m not talking about owning a house or a car or having huge savings. Once you get to your 30s, you have worked for a good 8 years and your pay cheque finally has some decent numbers on it. Simple pleasures are no longer dependent on monthly budgets or payday.
1. You don’t have to save up for months to buy that Zara bag you’ve been eyeing.
2. You no longer owe allegiance to beer and Old Monk because that’s the only alcohol you can afford.
3. Impromptu plans are no longer avoided because you are broke as always.
4. Going on an international holiday with friends is no longer just an item on the bucket list.
And if you do things right, in your 30s you are finally making enough money to foot all your bills and figure out your savings (unless you are just addicted to being broke). Many of us eventually buy a car. I’m not going to talk about buying a house because with the current real estate rates, that’s a dream that has been moved to the 40s. So 30s beats the 20s when ‘being broke’ was a chronic condition and you had to save and cut corners for weeks to enjoy one weekend of few beers.
Money aside, the other perk of being in your 30s is your career. By your early 30s you are finally proud of flashing your visiting card. After all that designation on it was hard earned and hopefully well-deserved. Having juniors look up to you and wanting to be in your chair five years down the line is one helluva compliment. Some of us, given my generation’s ‘just do it’ attitude, finally have the courage to “follow their dream” because in your 30s you suddenly feel “damn I don’t have much time to left to faf around!”
As a woman in my 30s, the biggest perk is that my mom’s finally given up on being my mother. We now have a two-way conversation vs the usual one-way nagging. And we can agree to disagree quite peacefully. Phew!
At 32 with all these reasons and many more which I’m kinda lazy to write, there are no ‘wish I was still 22’ moments.