Screw Your 30 Things To Do Before 30

Recently, a friend of mine turned 29, and I called her from Madrid. It was around 8 a.m. her time, and she was packing to celebrate her birthday next to the deep blue lake of Tahoe, California. I was flooded with memories from the last time we were all together there—the summer before I left for Spain. My insides had been crawling with excitement and worry (mostly worry) about my life ahead and what it would look like.

Thinking about the future felt like staring at a concrete wall.

I couldn’t fathom what I’d do, where I’d live, or who I’d meet. The plan was to live abroad for just one year and then come back to my “normal” life in California. I figured I’d get the restlessness out of my system and return in time to finish my 20s like I was "supposed to."

You know... establish a career… find a partner who isn’t too boring or narcissistic or irresponsible with money… have a stunning engagement photo shoot that makes everyone secretly hate you… buy a house... and then pop out a baby before the clock strikes 30.

My friend told me she’d spent the eve of her 29th year looking at lists on the internet of all the things she “needed” to do before she turned 30.

"There's just not enough time,” she relented. “I'm almost 30, and there's so much I haven't done. It makes me feel bad."

I could empathize. I spent the night of my own 29th birthday frantically researching skincare products and procedures I “needed” for my inevitably crinkled 30-year-old skin. I filled my Amazon cart with retinoids, squalane solutions, and expensive creams. Then, I deleted it all. A few online quizzed revealed that I was years behind on my skincare routine, and I should just accept my fate of being a wrinkly old rat with occasional hormonal acne.

…

I’ve always been prone to comparing my achievements to the milestones of others.

My parents were married at 25, so naturally, I assumed I’d be married by then too.
—At 25, I was freshly single and secretly planning my escape to Europe.

My mom was 115 lbs on the day of her wedding, so I thought I should be too.
—I haven’t been 115 lbs since I was 15.

My parents had their first child at 28, so I figured I would too.
—At 28, I was earning minimum wage, working 12-hour days, and saving all my extra money to buy a plane ticket to Morocco.

My cousin found her soulmate just shy of 30, so part of me hoped I’d be so lucky too.

…

But as I edge past those benchmarks, I see more clearly that life doesn’t follow a tidy timeline. Vera Wang didn't enter the fashion industry until she was 40. Julia Child didn’t publish her first cookbook until 50. Frank Kameny, a pioneering LGBTQ+ activist, was fired from his government job in his 30s, but it was in his 40s and beyond that he led historic protests and laid the groundwork for the modern gay rights movement-

Even still, none of those stories impress me as much as hearing about someone from my college orientation who’s already published a book.

I’d wonder: Is there still time to do what I want to do when others have already done it? How can I become a writer when people like Ashley Ford have already written every essay I never knew I needed?

…

I spent most of my 20s telling myself I was too young to start grad school, then too old to start a new career. I was so preoccupied with the time I thought I had left that I missed out on the present. We hear all these stories about people who strike success by 25, but what about the people who hit their 30s and finally discover what they truly want and need from life?

Now, I’m letting go of the expectations I set for my 30th birthday.

Only four months left in my 20s. I’m not married. I rent a small apartment. No baby on the way. I haven’t published a book or made six figures.

And yet, there are so many things I have done.

They weren’t on any of those “30 before 30” lists, but who's checking to make sure we’ve completed them anyway?

I’ve decided to use those lists as a guide—not a rulebook. After all, some of the advice is actually helpful, like managing your credit debt or taking control of your sexual health. But instead of obsessing over what I haven’t done, I’m embracing what I have accomplished.

I learned how to stand up for myself.

I made friends with people who see me and love me for who I am.

I left a relationship that wasn’t healthy.

I got a college degree and a teaching credential.

I moved across the world to a country I’d never visited before.

…

Not to quote an overused Robert Frost poem, but I’m done looking at the paths of my friends and family—some are smoother, others filled with cute heart-shaped stones or overgrown with weeds. My path may be wobbly, but I wouldn’t choose any other way.

The number 30 isn’t a finish line looming in the distance, ready to remind me of what I haven’t done. It’s just a marker, a check-in point on my journey. And when I reach it, I imagine it’ll pat me on the back, hand me a drink, and say, “Look at all those gigantic milestones still to come!”

…

UPDATE: Now that I’ve passed that marker, I can honestly say it gets better. Life didn’t dull the second I turned 30—it expanded. I meet people in their 20s now, and they’re shocked when they hear my life isn’t boring or over. They’re surprised that I’m fun, happy, joyful, and playful. We've been programmed to believe that life ends when our 20s do, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Every year since I’ve turned 30 has gotten better and better.

With each passing year, I’ve grown into a fuller, more joyful version of myself. I’ve learned that life doesn’t follow a checklist or some arbitrary timeline—it follows the rhythm of your own growth, discovery, and self-acceptance. And that, I’ve found, is far more exciting than anything I could’ve imagined.