Yes, it must have happened. We have expected it. Here it is. And what did it do to us?

Both authors of this web turned thirty within last couple of months. Threw few parties as expected to celebrate making it into respectable adults and… Has anything changed? Speaking of myself, absolutely nothing has changed. I still feel one day like being twelve and the next like being seventeen. And oscillating between the two extremes. It’s funny.

Or, maybe there is few things that I’ve noticed. But rather gradually, not suddenly or unexpectedly.

I noticed I have friends who are older. Considerably older. They are real old farts. There is some who are about sixty, and even one who’s well over eighty. I couldn’t imagine having friends even in my father’s age some five years ago. Now I find it obvious. They think the same, they do the same, we have something in common, we’re friends. Age does not matter anymore. At all.

I noticed I’m accepted. It must have something to do with grey hair and starting wrinkles, I have no better explanation. I get called “sir” instead of a “young man”. Am I not young anymore? I was told for years that life was just starting at thirty.

With acceptability, there’s also responsibility. Out of the blue, it’s not surprise that I’m in charge of others. Scratching my greying hair, I am to decide what they’re gonna do. I should be responsible (and I am trying my best to be, of course).

And I’m not punk anymore (not that I ever was). I’m stoic, self-composed and laid-back. Without making an effort to render this post too humorous, sometimes — quite incidentally — I happen to be. It seems that my judgements have real ground underneath. Some of them, at least. One or two I can recall… I am no longer eager to “go south” as I used to in my late teens, now I am south enough and I am to go north again. The tide is slowly turning.

And one thing that alone makes me sure I’m grown? I don’t feel like spending nights out anymore. I can’t care less. If I don’t feel like going somewhere, I don’t go, even if friends go. I don’t care. It’s not the end of the world if I don’t see something or if I miss something. I prioritise.

Looking at the lines above, it seems that there is actually far more to being thirty than I expected. And that is still not all. I double-checked with my brother in London, and he also gets some regular reminders: gas & electricity bills, rent/mortgage repayments, and everybody’s favourite taxes to pay. These are the annoying details, and one has to get used to them. If one cannot get one’s own way, one must adjust to the inevitable…

But there are bright moments, too. Take parenthood. One sees a baby grow (if one has one, I might add). Enjoys teaching and learning together. Motivating. Exploring. Conquering. Experiencing. That can be the real joy of thirties, I guess.

So after all, there is a lot to be in one’s thirties. Or maybe (almost) nothing, if one chooses so.

Since for those who entered their thirties and don’t feel ready yet, there’s a cheap trick: it only takes a clean shave and a short haircut to look ten years younger. It won’t fool the taxman, but it might be just enough to start a conversation with that super-cool teen who just moved next door.