I’m a mere two months, just days away, from ringing in my 30th year on this earth. I’ll admit, I have a few issues with this fact and am having a bit of a 33 and a 1/3 life crisis.
This is aggrandized by the fact I am currently seeing someone 4 years my junior. Four years, of course, in the larger context of the world is nothing. I recognize compatibility is based on maturity and ours is at a similar level (one may say he’s more). I’ve also dated people my age and older than me who were light years behind me in our levels.
And while I maintain these thoughts and principles, I am reminded of my soon to be 30 years and his soon to be 26 years by conversations such as this one:
Me: Hmm, that bartender looks exactly like Gavin Rossdale.
Me: [tears, weeping almost falling off my barstool]
I often play the “when you were 8 and I was 12” or “when you were 12 and I was 16” game, which I’m sure he’s thrilled about. Gavin Rossdale fit right in. Bush came out with their first record, Sixteen Stone, in 1994, when I was 12 years old (and he was 8). In the height of puberty, I was clearly, like most teens at the time, in love with Gavin and had committed to naming my children Gavin and Liam (Liam Gallagher of Oasis was my other favorite. Clearly I had a thing for British frontmen.). Gavin sang to me about a chemical used to make soap (“Glycerin” for those of you born in 1986 or after) and held the epitome of hot 90s frontman from England. (After looking up Gavin, Mr. Gwen Stefani, I found he is 46. Say what!? Dude is an old man!) Of course, him, being 8 at the time wasn’t too hip on early 90s rock music in quite the same way (though he likes the Cranberries almost as much as I).
But really at the root of this issue that is terrifying to me is approaching 30 reminds me of the pressure I receive from many different sources in finding someone, settling down, having 9 babies and being an “adult.” I do want those things eventually, and insofar, this hasn’t happened for me. I think I’ve been patient and enjoyed the ride, but watching him at 26 reminds me that at 26, your life really is at a different place. The pressure that you receive at near 30 can be debilitating. While I try not to be a crazed person about it, sometimes it’s hard not to do, which in turn can crush a relationship before it’s even began.
So I’m attempting to take it slow, pretend I’m only 26, at least in mindset, and enjoy whatever comes my way and not freak out about my eggs drying up inside of me or the fact I may never own a house. I’m reminded that any guy who is worth it, he’ll help support you with or without wrinkles, even if he isn’t knowledgable on 1990s pop icons.