I ENDURED WHAT can only be described as an existential crisis immediately after my 30th birthday.

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And I insisted on repeatedly using a metaphor about highways and driveways (not byways) to articulate what I saw as so stressful about the whole saga.

Looking for all the world like Charlie in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia when he uncovers a conspiracy in the mailroom, I ranted – in a particularly inarticulate way – about how unfair the whole ageing process was.

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It’s like your 20s are this big, long… actually super-long… highway where you barely have to fit anything in except maybe finishing college. But your 30s are like this size – a driveway maybe, actually a really short driveway, and you have to fit EVERYTHING in. Houses, weddings, babies; and it’s… well… it’s…  how are you meant to do that when you’re not even ready to do that yet?

I was fed the same platitudes about not comparing myself to others, everyone is at the point in their life they’re meant to be, there’s no obligation to follow a certain path, and everything will fall into place.

It was sound advice – all of which I ignored.

Instead I consoled myself with the few things I actually found pleasant about the whole thing.

1. I suddenly looked younger than my years.

When your sanity is hanging on by a thread and all you can talk about is highways and driveways, there’s a vague comfort in hearing that while your body definitely feels 30 (or older), you apparently don’t actually look a day over… well… 28.

2. My FOMO all but disappeared.

In my 20s, FOMO would have me climbing the walls on weekends when I wasn’t in the thick of it. I don’t know what’s changed, but I honestly can’t remember the last time I felt it.

3. My plan-free weekends are celebrated.

In my 20s, if I found myself approaching a weekend with feck-all plans, I panicked. Nowadays, these types of weekends are to be savoured, and are generally revered among friends of a similar age.

4. My metabolism has slowed down.

Now, hear me out. There’s a vague comfort in getting to use biology as an excuse when in actual fact you’ve done feck-all to help yourself in that department in weeks. Yeah, it’s a precarious one but we find our comfort where we can.

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5. My parental conversations take on a new meaning.

There were countless times when I tuned out my parents if they banged on about house repair or gardening, and yet these days I find myself interested in their take on anti-mould paint, and more often than not, I learn a thing or two.

6. I can ask for the music to be turned down in restaurants.

And no one can say anything because, well, I’m 30 and I’m old.

7. I can talk about my bad back for the guts of an entire phone conversation.

And no one can judge me because well I’m 30 and I have a bad back.

8. I can legitimately use the term ‘remember when we were in teenagers’ and not get laughed at.

Because nowadays it actually is far enough away that there’s a chance some of my circle won’t actually remember it all too well.

9. I now accept my makeup-free face.

And to be honest, in my 20s, I definitely didn’t.

10. I no longer get as many hangovers.

And that’s because hangovers in your 30s are akin to death, so I avoid them as much as I can.

I woke up with a serious hangover today despite not drinking last night.
If ever there was a surer sign I turned 31 today 🙄🙄🙄

— Niamh McClelland (@niamhomac) June 9, 2018

11. I often prioritise comfort when buying new clothes.

And that’s why I now own a rain jacket and multiple pairs of flat shoes that aren’t unique to Penneys; none of which I had in my 20s.

12. I can use the ‘long week’ excuse to get out of almost everything.

And that’s because if I hadn’t pulled it first, my mate would have.

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