Sounds like I’m not the only person for whom the 00s have been a big decade! Thank you for sharing your stories with me.
As I’d mentioned, my understanding of adult development is heavily influenced by the work of Daniel Levinson — you can get the Cliffs’ Notes version of his theory here. (All the language refers to men, and his original study was on the male lifespan; he did wind up writing a second book about women, but if there were any major differences, I would have remembered them, and I don’t. Studying adult development is hard because the specifics of everyone’s life differ, but the people who have done it successfully, like Levinson and Dan McAdams, focus on general themes. Maybe “becoming a grownup” to you means running your own business, or having a baby, or buying your first real car, or doing your first jail stint, but everyone wants to do something in their late teens/early 20s to prove their adulthood, for example.)
And it sounds like a bunch of you all are coming up on the Age 30 Transition, or have recently gone through it. This is a really helpful concept to understand, especially if you’re within five years of 30.
One of the major things I loved about Sassy Curmudgeon‘s “Ten Years of Twenties” post is her acknowledgment of the dark side of the 20s:
When I was 22, a 28 year-old friend of mine sat me down and gave it to me straight. “The next four to five years are going to suck,” she said. “But then it gets awesome.” I smiled and nodded and truly believed that life would not suck for me, because I was starry-eyed and ambitious and different, and she was fucking old anyway, so what did she know? She was right, of course. Being 22 through 27 just kind of blows. It’s not a constant state of blowing, though—it’s like a fine wine; the blow ripens over time until you get a nice, full-bodied suck.
This is why the Age 30 Transition needs to happen. The media give one’s 20s great play as a time of dating, urban adventures, maximum good looks and minimum responsibility, but the fact is, that’s not how most of us experience it. For most of us, it’s a hard time: a time of piecing together the scraps of adult life from whatever’s nearest, all the while not fully knowing yourself well enough to know what you really need from and can contribute to a relationship, a career, a community. It’s a mad scramble for jobs that aren’t too demeaning, dates that aren’t too depressing, used furniture that looks more “shabby chic” than “trailer park panache,” and trying to find something affordable at H&M that can get you through a job interview.
As you near your 30s, you’ve got a little ground under your feet and can start to make some decisions. Maybe that job you took right after graduation because you had to have a job isn’t the right one for you, and law programs have been looking surprisingly tempting. Maybe that job you took is turning out to be a real career, after all, and you’re thinking about moving away from your home town to go work at headquarters. You start realizing what works for you and what doesn’t, and you’ve begun to develop the experience, financial resources, and general life savvy to get what you want. (Among my group of friends, we referred to this time as “Everyone who’s married gets divorced, everyone who’s single gets married, everyone in grad school drops out, everyone in the workforce goes to grad school.”)
So for those of you still doing the patchwork-quilting of the 20s, hang in there. And those of you starting to lift up your heads and say, “Hey, wait, why am I working at/dating/living in X when I’m really a totally Y kind of person?” — fasten your seatbelts. It may be a bumpy ride for a year or two … but it’s worth it.
Subscribe to Robin Abrahams' Blog
5 Comments to 'Age 30 transition'
January 27, 2010
I find it amusing that so many people seem to view turning 30 as a bad thing – you’re so OOOOOOOOOOOOLD – and I couldn’t wait to be 30. I was done with my 20s by about 27, and ready to move on. I suppose it didn’t hurt that I was the youngest in most of my groups of friends, and was tired of the (good-natured) teasing about being a baby because I was still in my 20s. As I approach 40, which seems to be even more dreaded than 30, I’m looking forward to it, but not in the same way.
January 27, 2010
akmom, did you do that thing where you started saying you were 30 when you were 29? I did. I hated being 29 (and 39)–it sounds like you’re lying!
January 27, 2010
akmom — a lot of my friends dreaded the 30 change. I was so so so so ready for it. My 20s were necessary. I did some amazing things, lived in some weird places, and dated some inappropriate people. I don’t regret a minute of it. But I was glad to move on (with the help of the geritol, denture cream, and adult diapers one of those friends who dreaded 30 — and turned it before I did — sent me for my birthday. Cute, right?)
January 27, 2010
Robin – yes, it does sound like you’re lying! I don’t think I outright lied about being 30 when I was 29, but said a lot of things like ‘almost 30′. I’ve only been 39 for two weeks, so have not yet had many occasions to talk about my age, although I did make a joke about turning 39 for the first time. I’m tempted to lie about my age this summer, though, so I can play in the over-40 soccer league with my friends. It’s not like I’m so athletic that I’d clearly be a ringer or anything.
January 28, 2010
I turned 29 in December and I’ve been saying I’m 30 or almost 30 since I was 28. I’m so ready to leave my 20′s behind!
Leave a comment