There’s so much build-up to turning 30. For what?!

I had been psyching myself up about turning 30 for months before my actual birthday mainly because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do. Everyone was asking me “Oh! What will you do? How will you celebrate?”

I suspected many of these questions were because people wanted to have, or at least be invited to, a party. However, one thing most people don’t know about me is that I despise birthday parties. Not other people’s, only my own. So much so that I will go out of my way to not tell people when my birthday is and then run out of town for the weekend so I can be alone. And I’d also like to recognize that I know there are people who would want to help celebrate this milestone in my life with me. I considered the fact that by intentionally avoiding celebrations and attention I would block people from expressing how they share a love for me. However, for whatever reason, my heart told me I needed to spend this birthday in relative solitude. I’m not sure exactly why that was, my therapist hasn’t gotten that far yet so stay tuned for a follow-up.

Anyway, I mulled around several ideas: all involving travel and all with a guest list of zero. I eventually settled on New York City because it’s familiar and wouldn’t require pre-planning or research. Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of new places I wanted to try out. But I wanted something that was stress-free logistically.

I knew months ago that I wanted to spend my day doing something that brings me endless joy and I didn’t have to think very much to figure out what that is: observing, consuming, and interacting with works of art. I wanted to disassociate from everything, to be quite honest, and get lost in the endless corridors of The Met.

“How do you feel”

“It’s the big ~ThIrTy~”

“You’re an old man now”

Do I feel different?

Am I somehow changed?

When will I start making more money?

Does the existential crisis start now or do I need to redeem a coupon for it?

Countless people have either asked me similar questions or made similar comments to me for the past several months, even before my birthday. In fact, I’ve been asked these questions in some form for the entirety of my mid/late 20s. People seemingly expect me to produce some grand proverb, epiphany, or reflection on my life thus far. But of course, in their defense, I have done the exact same to others who reached the same milestone. Why, though, do we make such a big deal out of turning 30?

I can’t help but think that people ask their questions because they are longing to learn more and to understand. That is, after all, why I ask others the same — it’s because I want to arm myself with their wisdom. The old adage “learn from other people’s mistakes so you don’t have to figure it out the hard way” rings true, I suppose.

But even after all the questions and inner thoughts, I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to feel. As much as people pretend they were prepared to turn thirty, the reality is that they are just better at hiding their imposter syndrome than others. The reality is that no one really knows what the heck they’re doing in life. And that’s okay. The sooner people humble themselves to the fact that they do not know something is when growth really begins.

In all honesty, I really am not sure how I feel about all this. Birthdays have never meant that much to me and I’ve always felt older than I am, probably because I had to grow up mentally and emotionally well before others my own age. I’ve been 30 for well a month now and to be quite honest, I’m actually happy to be 30. At least now I can stop obsessing over the idea of it and start living it.

I don't want to sound jaded, calloused, cold, or ambivalent about my 30th birthday. I am truly so proud of how far I have come in these 30 years. Perhaps that’s why I wanted to give the moment its due reverence by escaping to reflect alone. I never thought I would get this far in my life, but I am proud of all I have done in the process.

So, for all those of you who ask what turning 30 is like, here you go: my 30 thirty-isms. Hopefully I’ll read this in ten years and smile because of how much growth and accomplishment I have yet to experience. But more importantly, I hope I smile someday in the future because I have imparted unto you some tidbit of knowledge to make your journey a little smoother than mine was. If I can make the life of just one other person ever so slightly easier, then that will be all I needed to accomplish in this world.

ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPHER:

These photographs are by my dear friend Josh, who I met in during the uncertain summer of 2020. He was about to embark on his New York City adventure as I was turning the closing page on my own. He is a true friend to so many, having one of the largest hearts I’ve ever known and having the emotional capacity to continue to find beauty even in the face of true adversity. When I started ideating my “big 30th birthday” and how I wanted to memorialize this milestone in my life, the first thing that came to mind was to capture it in images. The second thing was that I wanted Josh to take them. Being in front of his lens was a true dream come true and I will cherish these images for the rest of my life, just like Josh’s friendship.

30 is knowing that it’s okay to let your friends grow in their own way, even if that means it’s away from you.

30 is finding your voice.

30 is realizing that the care you have for other people can not possibly be reciprocated. And that’s okay.

30 is realizing that the person on the other end of a stalled relationship, who you think of often, likely hasn’t thought of you in months. And that’s okay, too.

30 is prioritizing yourself and well-being.

30 is coming to terms with the fact that no one will ever understand you fully. And in the same way, you will never fully understand others.

30 is loving extra dirty martinis.

30 is embracing the fact you see the world in a wildly different way than anyone else.

30 is remembering to stretch before a run.

30 is being unabashedly proud of yourself.