As I have posted about previously, I recently joined the very distinguished “30 and Over Club.” I’m now an “old fool” which apparently means I’m also “so cool.” With all the hoopla, however, not much feels different. There is one thing, I guess, that seems to feel a bit better, that “thing” being one’s perception at the work place. For some, this may not be relevant, depending on your profession. But for those of us in the corporate world, most certainly, I anticipate this concept applies.
A good friend of mine (in Dallas… you know who you are) turned 30 just a few weeks before me. On her big day, I asked how she felt about it. Despite being the obvious and dumbest question (because we all know the movie Big isn’t based on a true story and nothing much magically changes over night), I asked anyway. Her response impressed me. She commented that not much felt different except that she felt others perceived her to be wiser and more credible at work. After some thought, I agreed. Hearing someone is 30 instead of 29 seems to carry a greater sense of experience and credibility. And since I didn’t care personally about turning 30, the birthday brought a new sense of assurance and confidence, in a way. I really think she’s right!
My brother-in-law (who has the same birthday as my aforementioned and very wise Dallas friend) interviewed recently for Vice Principal position in his district. He assumed he would be too young for the role but interviewed anyway and made it to the final round of interviews (final decision yet to be made). I had previously shared Dallas friend’s wise words with him and, after his interview process, he affirmed her thoughts. Being 30 seemed to carry some weight in the decision process and no longer made him “too young and inexperienced” for the role.
Passing into the decade of my thirties, while making me “older and wiser” at work, also makes me “older and lamer” on the weekends. I will speak for myself here, but I have definitely toned down my social life in recent years (thanks in large part to the arrival of The Little Guy, which is also a large part of “getting older” for many people). The Man and I snuck out for a casual dinner a day or two ago, and I wore the sweater and jeans you see here. Not exactly the snazziest number but I wanted something warm and comfortable. (Yes, I said warm, because the five days of summer we had have already left the city.) I do like to get all dolled up occasionally, but it happens far less often that it did eight or ten years ago. Some things just have to change (even though I’m pretty sure I’ve enjoyed the changes along the way).
I expect we can all agree that being young forever might have some perks. But there’s something about getting just a little bit older that maybe it’s not so darn bad. What do you think? Do you wish you could be 21 forever, or have you basked in some brilliance of passing years, like a great aged wine or cheese?