The Importance of Being Thirty-something

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Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday to 34 year old meeeeee…

The room shakes with the thunderous applause of my imaginary friends, bringing a tear to my eye. Not from self-pity because I am on my own today, with my husband in London on work and my family far, far away on a distant shore. No, these are tears of joy because I have survived three rollercoaster decades of ups and downs, of trials, tribulations and triumphs, and am almost the age I always wanted to be -35!

In my mid-twenties, when my contemporaries complained about their advancing years, I always said I couldn’t wait till I was 35. Besides being the perfect opening shot for the kind of verbal duel I loved, I also really meant it. Looking at thirty-something women as a 25 year old, they seemed to have it all -house, spouse, career and children. I already had the dream career and was sure it was only a matter of time before I had the rest.

Of course, history proved me wrong. I found out you had to lose some to win some. I lost my career when I acquired a spouse, lost the spouse to regain my ambition and self-respect (and a charming little house of my very own), lost the house for a great new spouse (and a bigger better house) and so on, like one of those annoying doggerels from childhood, but a lot more meaningful because it’s your life.

Today, I am one short of that magic number- 35, and I’m counting my blessings. And the wonderful thing is I have almost as many of those as I have imaginary friends.

Scoff not, twenty-wotsit whippersnappers, nor shed a tear my thirty-something friends, there is indeed plenty to celebrate:

No.1 Looks - This is the decade you discover that conventional yardsticks of beauty are every bit as superficial as your parents promised, but being at ease in your skin is all-important and you now know how.

I spot a few new grey strands in my hair everyday but the streaks of silver suit my raven tresses and when I go completely grey, I am convinced I shall look like the gorgeous Storm from X-Men!

I have a bit more weight on me but also real curves, and have the confidence to wear what I like with panache and without concession to fads or Stone Age attitudes.

I don’t have a single wrinkle yet (looking at my mother, I know it’ll be years before I do, thanks Ma) and pimples are a thing of the prehistoric past.

And I’m in fabulous company, some of the most dazzling women in the world are in their thirties and improving exponentially every year; Angelina Jolie, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Kylie Minogue to name a few.

We all agree that Hotpant Kylie the Pop Princess is a massive improvement on Dungarees Kylie from ‘Neighbours’ but Kylie is also a good example of another thing women acquire in their thirties (no, not Toy boys)...

No.2 Strength - You still can’t carry the living room sofa all by yourself (for most of us that will remain a distant dream!), but you do discover deep wells of emotional strength you never knew you had till it was put to the test.

I never had much time for Kylie till she beat cancer with such grace last year. I didn’t know what tenacity and determination I myself possessed till I survived a difficult divorce, largely on my own in a foreign land, with dignity, optimism and limbs intact!

You certainly don’t know what you’re made of till you’ve attended the School of Hard Knocks and most of us don’t till we’ve left our parents’ protection, our circle of staunch old friends or the country of our birth behind us. The wisdom of Solomon, a will of steel, or that indomitable spirit – many of us discover a couple of these in the midst of our first big crisis in our thirties.

And if you should find you have no redeeming qualities whatsoever, well, isn’t it better to have been clueless about your ineptitude till your thirties when you have developed a thick skin at least?

No.3 Fun - Repeat after me - life does not end at 30. It probably doesn’t at 40 either but I won’t know for another 6 years!

I’ve had just as much fun in my thirties, a different kind of fun; it’s more me than the things I felt compelled to do in my twenties.

I’m sure I’ve been to every club, pub and discotheque that was around at the time, either with friends, half-heartedly joining in their ‘merrymaking’ into the wee hours, or with my TV crew to cover an event. The latter was always less work and more fun than the former!

Nowadays I love a good pub- a ‘gastro pub’, usually in the English countryside, full of history and fine food, or a sophisticated wine bar, all cool minimalism, muted music and inventive cocktails, the kind you can have a proper (if slightly tipsy) powwow in because you can hear yourself think.

I might even deign to dance at a party or jump, wave and scream with the best of them at a gig but only to music that moves me and not because I am expected to.

And if you fancy a spot of crochet, go for it, because that’s the beauty of being thirty-something, you do what you want to do!

Most of all, if this attempt to remind my friends that it is my birthday today should fail, I won’t hold it against them because blissful forgetfulness is also a part of our thirties.