The First Zero

Damn, I've just been reminded that I turn 33 in 3 weeks. But that's one of my quirks (for lack of a better word). I never remember my own birthday until about 2 days before. Then it hits me. Argh! Another year older! And then I forget it as quickly until the next year.

Age is all in the mind.
You are as old as you think you are. As young as you feel you are. Bugger the woman who gripes that they're old, just as they're about to hit 30. I'm telling you right now that when you hit 30, your whole life changes. Your perspective changes. I understand why older women don't give a shit what you think. All they're thinking of is if they're going to like YOU.

When I turned 30, the months before were a little anxiety filled. 30. THIRTY. It's psychologically a bit of a stumbling block. You're no longer a kid. You're an adult. The big Three Zero. That's huge. I saved for a bit then, thinking I'd throw a huge party to celebrate the first "zero" in my life.

Then 2 weeks before I said fuck-it-all to the planning. I arranged for a few days off from work. Booked myself in to 5-star spa resort on Krabi, splurged on a new bikini and spent my birthday on a fantastic beach, in a luxurious resort and pampered myself everyday with massages. I went alone and can't ever remember being recharged better. That holiday was for me, me alone, and it felt good.

I'll tell you what struck me the most though. Because I was an operations manager in a marketing consultancy at the time, I had to hand over and prep my team for the week I would be away. The young ones were all horrified. "What? You're going alone? Alone??" was all they could say. But the older colleagues? They were all basking in my first trip alone. "Go. Go now. Good! Go before you settle down. Wish I could do the same!"


Can't wait to turn 40. Things can only get better.