The journalist wrote a letter to women who crossed the thirty -year line, but never began to lead a worthy measured life of an adult woman – with her husband, children and mortgages.
This week I perform thirty with a tail. I do not call the exact age, because against my background the rest of the employees are babies. Society inspired me that aging is a failure, so I try to save myself from despair by denying and self -deception, I try not to think about real age and convince myself that I look 25 years old.
I am ashamed of my age. The problem of aging is not like other life tests, when you fail, you get up and try again. I cannot become younger, my age is not subject to discussion and adjustment. I try not to define myself through age, but those around me are not so kind.
To top it off, I did not fulfill a point from the list of goals that a person of my age should achieve
I have no partner, children. A funny amount lies in the bank account. I don’t even dream of buying my own housing, I barely have enough funds to rent.
Of course, I
did not think that my life at the age of 30 would be such. Birthday is a great opportunity to indulge in unproductive regrets and experiences. Brief resume: I get thirty with a tail, I hide age and worry. But I know that I’m not alone. Many thought that adult life would look different. I am glad that she was not the way I imagined. I have four reasons for this.
1. Adventures
I grew up in a small town. In my free time I read books and dreamed of adventure. Our family did not go anywhere, trips to relatives to the neighboring town did not count. My youth was in its own way happy, but unremarkable.
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