Days of My Life

Thirty on Thirty

Still having a hard time believing that thirty years of my life has passed. And yet, I still feel like I’ve only turned eighteen and theres still so much in life that I’ve yet to accomplish.

Thirty on Thirty – because I turn 30 today on the 30th of September (yes, I share the same birthday as Monica Belluci). Its a milestone because as they say, your twenties is when you’ll experiment and screw up (and oh boy, did I screw up big time), your thirties is when your life really begins.

“But you don’t look thirty at all?!”, the reaction I get when I’m asked how old I am. Whether they’re trying to be nice or to not hurt my feelings (haha), but in many ways I still don’t feel thirty. Ten years ago, I would’ve thought that by the time I reach thirty, I would already be married with two kids, probably become a ‘soccer mum’ driving my kids around in big baggy tees and sweat pants, can cook a few mean dishes and would’ve stopped swearing. Guess what? I have headaches just thinking of planning a wedding, no kids yet, still wear flower crowns and big poofy tulle skirts while lusting over Givenchy bags and trying to squeeze my foot into the only pair of Giuseppe even though I can’t buy it, the one thing I’m good at making in the kitchen is a mess and I still swear like a sailor. Nothing has really changed in the past ten years except that I’ve swapped my Escada Rockin Rio perfume (yikes, I know right) for J’adore Dior and have stopped dreaming of the places I want to visit and actually visited them. I haven’t really changed. Or have I? Maybe there were significant changes in me that I can’t see because, well, I am living in my own skin, its hard to tell if I’ve changed.

However, in this past year, I did notice certain attributes and thoughts that are different that I didn’t notice earlier. Lets list them down shall we?

  1. I have lost my interest for clubbing. Not that I was a hard core clubber to begin with. I drank occasionally and was quite picky about my liquor but never beer; never liked the smell and taste of it. In my late teens and the early years working on the island, the club scene was mostly beach parties, Coke mixed in Chivas served in plastic cups, sarongs and bikinis, foam (minus the tee-ko Banglas) and dancing in stomping unison to Dancehall and Reggaeton. These went on for a few Zoukouts and Siloso Beach Parties. Of course, over the years, the party scene evolved from Dancehall to Electro/Dubstep and I did too along with it.  It reached the peak in my late 20s after breaking free from that suffocating relationship. I was like a bird straight out of a cage. Partied with the girls almost every Wednesdays and weekend for 3 months, hopping to at least 2 clubs in a night, tried as many different booze as I can handle and danced or hung out till it was time to claim the cab fare from 7am onwards. Needless to say, my skin and my bank account suffered. It was going on so often, I started to see the ugly side of it. I went from having fun with the girlfriends to babysitting them, fighting off the amount of sleazy men lurking around the dance floor, never leaving your drinks alone in case they get spiked and the smell of sweat, alcohol and vomit just made you sick. It just wasn’t fun anymore. I got so tired of the scene, I needed a break from clubbing. Its been 3years and I still don’t feel like going back.
  2. Conversations are about adult matters. The topics I have with the people in my circle these days are mostly property, politics, parenting, health, insurance, wedding planning, renovations and what’s on Straits Times. I still have conversations about movies and celebrity gossip but I’ve notice that I’m not as interested in them as I use to be. I guess they are not as useful to me as they were then. It largely has to do with your social circle, your experience and how policies start to affect you. Since the successful balloting for our home; friends, colleagues, classmates, family and even taxi uncles are excited and eager to share their input, tips and exchange feedback. And property always leads to politics and everything else. Its like I’ve been given a ticket to the adult world and what goes on in it. The things we talk these days may be a bore to the minority in the circle but conversations about how or where you got laid last night isn’t as relevant and is honestly getting stale.
  3. Clothing choices are a little more conservative. I never thought I’ll admit this. I use to be all about the shorts and the tight dresses; was never really a mini skirt or jeans girl though. But since this year, I’ve stopped buying shorts. I don’t know what or how that happened. I use to have a collection of shorts to choose from in different cuts, length and colour and would wear them almost everywhere but now I’ve been reduced to one and I rarely ever wear it out unless it is nearby around the neighbourhood because, I hate to admit this, I think I grew out of them in the context of my waistline and taste. I’m still hoping to get my hands on an embroided piece to keep for vacations or beach days but my almost 12year love affair with the denim shorts has almost come to an end. Bikinis are still very much loved though, that hasn’t changed; even my taste in the kind of designs – toucans/parrots/sunset prints with the Brazilian cut – are my favourites but so hard to come by now (signs you’re getting old). Tight body hugging dresses are almost non-existent in my wardrobe too except for the few beautiful and/or sentimental pieces, if they flatter my figure and don’t focus on the tummy. The cheap and trashy looking ones from my clubbing years have met their end. Over the years, I have acquired some lovely pieces of clothing and especially accessories from jewellery, hats, bags and shoes from travels, being passed down to me or ones that I saved insanely to buy them; that I don’t think I’ll have the heart to throw them since they’re so versatile, unique and hold a certain amount of value no money can buy (another sign you’re growing old).

So there are changes after all *gasp! Its part and parcel of maturing I guess. Instead of being afraid of them, I’m actually quite relieved I’ve grown up (its about time). I’m thankful that I didn’t force it on myself like some women do although for valid reasons (getting married, pregnancy, I mean c’mon, party moms are not classy) but thank God the process of maturing came to me slowly and naturally.

I wonder what my 30s will be like? Will I finally stop making a mess in the kitchen and actually be able to cook edible food? Will I be a successful career woman? Will I be a great mother? Will I still prance around in tulle skirts and wear shades bigger than my face? Will I finally own a pair of Manolo Blahniks or Hermes Birkin? Only time will tell. What’s really important is that I’m happy, the people around me are happy and that I’m comfortable in my own skin; that is something that is priceless at any age. Who knows, ten years from now, I’ll be posting here about turning 40? That will be awesome.

Till the next entry, kiss, kiss. Oh, and Happy 30th Birthday to me *wink.

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