Over the Hill at 30? What EVAH!
I chose this subject forgetting what my age was. I snuggled down this evening under my crocheted blanket a friend made while l sipped on a camomile tea and thought about going over the hill.
The truth is l am. I’m heading towards 43. Bear with me and I might be able to explain it within this rambling.
You young ones can bugger off. Thirty isn’t over the hill. Thirty is the becoming of age. Your teen years through to the 20s are the ones where you are young, dumb and full of cum and self-exploring with what you actually like, dislike and what you won’t do. Home economics lessons never taught you all you needed to know about life in the kitchen. Who knew a strawberry soufflé could be so erotic while chomping down on an artic roll was not. We experimented. For me, a cucumber was best left as an extra to a Pimms and only good for the eyes you see through and not the one you sit on.
Heading towards my 43rd year I am plagued by creaking joints, a nerve in my arm that when it flares up I am in pain like I have never known for about 5 weeks and a decade of drinking sports drinks by the litre a day and sniffing poppers, while it hasn’t damaged my kidneys, I certainly wouldn’t be able to sell them on the black market. Occasionally I do wake with a mid-lower backache. My hair thankfully is my own with a flick grey here or there and I am able to cut my own toenails. Just.
But then there is the other thing that you get when you become 40 and over the hill. That’s contentment. If you have made the right choices, had a shit load of fun on the way but always kept an eye on the long-term outcome, you will find happiness within yourself. That there in itself is an ultimate goal. An undervalued goal too when I have spoken to youngsters about their hopes, dreams and aspirations. If you have to aim low, then do so. You’ll achieve more that way.
If you are lucky to have someone else, hopefully, it will be with them too. However as l have witnessed, if the significant other doesn’t have their eyes looking forward they can succumb to the all too familiar feelings of failure and ultimately bugger off looking for something that actually might not be there because had they turned around, they would have found it. Moral of the story is, become content as fast as possible.
So this leaves you in your 3rd decade of life. I wouldn’t go back there again. I’m not bloody stupid. But I wouldn’t want to miss out on anything that I did. I feel I achieved more than enough through that 3rd decade.
Drinking copious amounts of vodka was quite normal back then. A litre bottle in one sitting was quite the norm. The hangovers were never as savage as they are now. You didn’t do quite as many stupid things as you did in your 20s while fuelled up but you will do more than you will in your 40s. You’ll also be able to afford the better quality vodka and not the cheap tasting battery acid for the all-night offy. Being asked for ID is a thing of the past in your 30’s.
Being asked for ID is a thing of the past in your 30s.
You’ve got nightclubbing staying power babes, don’t you forget it. You’ve hit the clubs so many times, you know how to get high on the dance floor without using substances bought and sold in the toilets. You can choose your songs carefully, dance your socks off and then head to the bar when the key changes to something from One Direction. You may find you have a liking for OD later in life. I did with Tatjana “Santa Maria” I can’t stop dancing to it now. Back then l ruddy hated it.
Beige is a colour you’ll only associate with a Greggs’ pasty and not comfy trousers or a fluffy warm pull-over with roll top neckline. Colours are to be played with. The 30s is about statements and having the experience and balls to go out there and show the world.
You’ve also had love in the fast lane. If you do find lasting love in your 20s you’ll enjoy it more. 30s love comes with a level of maturity that you don’t have in your 20s. Going for coffee, art galleries and sigh seeing are things to enjoy. You wouldn’t dream of doing them in your 20s and I am not saying that you should. The mature human doesn’t want pissed up teens and 20 somethings ruining a stroll around Hyde Park and the V&A in London.
So cock off with your hiding of age, admit what you are.
Been there, done that and l tell you, there is nothing to be ashamed of.
You will, however, disguise your age. Being a mature student I disguised my early 30s by being late 20s. The girls at uni were obsessed with age. Come 40 and you’ll start shouting it from the rooftops that you made it that far. So cock off with your hiding of age, admit what you are. Been there, done that and l tell you, there is nothing to be ashamed of. In truth, the girls I went to uni with are now all in their 30s and settling down having babies. None of them are out drinking like I was so two finger salute to you 20 something youngsters, those in the 30s can handle it more than you realise.
And why can we handle it at 30? Because we are not over the hill. Our bodies heal just as fast. We have more cash in our pockets, WE have the nicer things. For my generation at least, we lived in different times. With each passing decade, it doesn’t always look like it becomes any easier for you lot.
By 38 the peak of the hill is getting close and you can see the clouds at the top but you can still cram in a bucket load of life in those remaining 104 weeks of 30. You’re not over the hill yet so what are you waiting for? Go on, bugger off… enjoy yourselves.
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Motoring nurse or medical motorist? It’s a difficult one. By day l nurse and by night l drive.
Fingers have always been grease deep in attending the motoring of an ageing fleet. And now l write about new and old.
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Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you'd like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.