Thirty is dirty word

So it happened... I turned 30 and guess what... I survived and largely nothing has changed. If anything, I feel slightly relieved... oh and more bloated (but that's thanks to a growing sprog in my belly that was going to happen no matter what my age, plus some holiday indulgences).
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It has, however, made me reflect on why turning 30 is something to dread for so many women (yes I know I’m generalising hugely here), whilst most men see is an opportunity for a celebration. 
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Here's what I came up with. Ever since my teen years, I’ve had the idea that by the time I was 30 I would really be killing it at adulting. More importantly that I would feel like I have it all together and life sorted out. I think that may be why over the past few years, I’ve joked with a friend who is also approaching the same milestone that we need another 10 years squeezed in before turning 30. But the truth is that from the outside it probably seems like I’ve ticked off many of the typical (if not outdated) expectations for your 20s- uni, career, travel, marriage, home owner, business owner, pregnant... but this doesn’t mean it feels like I have it figured out or that know what I’m doing. But I wonder if anyone ever truly achieves that feeling of really knowing what they are doing. Maybe that’s just part of the fun of living and it would be boring if we did feel like we had it all together. Maybe life gets boring and you go downhill once you reach that point. Maybe it’s a feeling we shouldn’t strive for at all. Maybe the feeling of not really having it all together is what pushes us to continue to improve ourselves (our physical, mental and/ or spiritual health). 
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There are also a few more recent events and circumstances that have built upon the dread as my birthday approached. In particular, there are some comments that seem to stick with you. I recall a former boss telling me that the pregnancy of her final child was labelled as a geriatric pregnancy (despite her only being 29 years old). So what does that make us who are expecting our first after the age of 30...or 35...or 40?? Luckily, I’m hoping this sort of language has been left if the past (at least directly to a woman’s face because we have enough pressures in pregnancy without feeling guilty about our age). However, reading to prepare for my biggest challenge ahead (becoming a mum), the age 30 presents ALOT in literature and is very rarely linked to good news when it comes to risk factors for both mum and bubs. 
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So I guess it was no wonder that reading all of this information with an overall negative link to 30+, in addition to feeling less and less like myself as my waist expands, new aches and pains develop, hormones are anything but stable and I puff just walking up steps despite regularly going to the gym, resulted in a combined  feeling of pending doom at the approach of my birthday. 
So how was it? 
Well, I was spoilt rotten by my sister and her family when they came to visit us from Adelaide and loved the getaway my husband arranged for us to Merimbula on the Sapphire Coast of NSW, despite getting around 75mm of rain on the day. Overall, it was pretty great!! 
So here’s to hoping you too can sail through any upcoming ‘milestone’ birthdays or at the very least you can reflect on exactly where any negative thoughts about your age stem from and continue to kill it at life, even if you don’t feel like you know what you are doing!! 

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