The Dirty Thirty

the big 30, thirties, young forever

The Dirty Thirty

I recently turned 30 and I have mixed emotions. I don’t consider age 30 to be old by any means; if I’m fortunate to live a long, healthy life 30 is really a mere fraction of that lifetime. After all, some of the most beautiful, sexy women in the world right now are in their mid to late thirties and are considered goddesses; so, I’m in good company, right? Regardless, once I’m no longer twenty-something things change, at least for me.

You see, whenever you hear someone say, “she’s a young, twenty-something” suddenly she gets a lot more slack. Late to drop off your kids at school and your wearing PINK yoga pants and Uggs…. forgiven because you’re a young Mom. Still, haven’t mastered the art of flambé and proper entertaining it’s alright because you can order take-out whenever company arrives. Not adulting properly is A-OK because you’re still “learning.” I’ve exploited my twenties with sheer abandon, old enough to be an adult when convenient but when $h!t goes down I would simply refer to my inexperience with life and suddenly it was like I had a hall pass.

I can’t do that anymore and it sucks. I’ve been married almost 9 years, I have four children, three businesses, I’m done with my higher education and I order real coffee at Starbucks; on paper, I’m all grown up. The reality is I don’t always feel ready to tackle the world on my own. Life lessons and responsibility aside, 30 also means I have to really start taking better care of myself and my health. I can’t eat leftover pizza for breakfast and have hot Cheetos for lunch anymore (at least not without some serious heartburn and other horrible digestive woes.) Not that I eat like that on the regular anyway but I’d still like the option.

A lot of people said going from 29 to 30 feels exactly the same as any other birthday, but I beg to differ. I went asleep on the eve of my birthday wearing a Victoria Secret PJ ensemble that showed waaaaaay too much butt cheek, my makeup haphazardly wiped off with a towelette, my belly overfull from my dinner of tempeh stir fry and Bud Light; only to wake up feeling like that just won’t fly anymore. I woke up thinking I should probably have some steel-cut oatmeal with chia, trade in my 25-inch hair extensions for a “wash and go” style and toss my distressed denim along with my bustiers and bedazzled everything. I did feel different, I woke up different and frankly I haven’t learned to like or accept it yet.

In an attempt to be reasonable and practical I try to think of all the women I admire and respect who are over 30. For example; many of my beautiful, personal friends who are slaying at life, The Duchess of Cambridge who is the epitome of beauty and class and Coco Austin because…well, dat ass and also because she makes motherhood even more beautiful, awe-inspiring and glamorous. Perhaps with time, I’ll learn to embrace and appreciate this new chapter in my life, In the meantime, I’m taking it like Stella and just trying to get my groove back.

About Author

Opal is a small business owner with a background in Psychology, Clinical Sexuality, Holistic Health Sciences and is a Certified Reiki Practitioner. She is a Mom of four young children including a set of twins and is a self-proclaimed foodie, health-spa enthusiast and beauty junkie.