Note: This piece was published on the Huffington Post April 17, 2014. This is a reposting. The original ran here on March 18, 2013.
Recently, one of my friends (actually an ex-boyfriend) said, “I was just telling someone life gets so much better in your 30s.”
He was right. And wrong.
It gets better: more simple, more meaningful, more established, more fulfilling, more STABLE. You’ll have fewer fights, cry less tears, and make fewer bad decisions.
But you’ll also have less fun. Here’s the best way I can put it: Life will feel less magical. (Probably because it becomes more predictable and less spur-of-the-moment).
When I was 20, I skipped Friday classes and spent a three-day weekend on the road with one of my favorite rock bands. I cannot write that same sentence about my 30s: “When I was 36, I skipped work, got fired, and forgot to pick up my kids from daycare” sounds like the first line of a bad memoir. Your responsibilities change. Big time.
If you wait until your 30s to have children—like most people I know have—you’ll start to realize the special quality of life in your 20s, the independence and craziness.
Having kids is amazing, but you will have to give up a lot. Movies, for one. Sleep. Taking a shower (when you have a newborn). If your 20s are like mine, you’ll be a world traveler. This hasn’t completely stopped, but it’s definitely slowed down.
What will be more established, hopefully: your career, your friends, your life partner, your family, your home (mortgage).
You will have everything you dreamed of those nights coming home from a bar when no one asked for your number, crying yourself to sleep because you felt so alone. In fact, you will never feel alone—and what you once prayed for—will feel like a curse and a blessing.
Most days, you will go about the machine of life—alarm, kids, shower, kids, breakfast (maybe), coffee (definitely), kids, door, car, road rage, kids singing “Wheels on the Bus,” daycare, work, work, lunch (at your desk), work, kids, car, road rage, home, kids, dinner, bathtime, bedtime, TV, glass of wine (much-needed), sleep (interrupted by to-do-list, kid crying, partner snoring, etc.)—and you will not even notice that life is passing by so fast that somehow suddenly you’re 37 and you’re not really 30 anymore.
But other days, you’ll reflect. You’ll think back to those college days, the days before kids, the days you slept til noon and spent the afternoon at bars watching football, day-drinking and wasting time. No-agenda days. Days you could do whatever you wanted even if that meant Ryan Reynolds’ movie marathons.
Most of all, you’ll want that time back to do something productive, like write a novel. Those days will seem long-gone—and lovely. And, if you’re lucky, you’ll occasionally be gifted (by your partner who will take the kids) a few days like this in your 30s—but, after a few hours of freedom, you’ll feel alone again, you’ll think of your child’s laugh, and you’ll wonder what it was you really missed.
So which is better? Your 20s or your 30s. Discuss.
To read more on this topic, see “Life in Your 20s vs. Your 30s Redux”