The Big 30

I am no longer a twenty-something. Although I haven’t moved up an age bracket on registration forms just yet, I have entered a new decade in my life.

My thirties.

I can’t say I was worried or upset about turning 30; to be honest I tend to just take each and every day as it comes these days and try and be thankful for everything I have, including my wonderful family whom I spent the day with back in England.

It didn’t feel like a milestone. In fact it didn’t even feel like a birthday. Life is so unpredictable these days in terms of where I might wake up or what I might do each day that my birthday just felt like another exciting day. Not like when I was at work and I would book the day off and be excited just to not have to be in the office. This was different. I also don’t put as much pressure on myself and other people to have a great time on special occasions anymore. I’ve realised that there is no point worrying about the small stuff and that every day should be enjoyed, not just one day out of the year. (Except Christmas – EVERYONE should enjoy Christmas. It’s compulsory.)

I was totally spoilt by my family. Scott and I kicked off the weekend with my sister, her husband and my gorgeous baby niece in North Yorkshire. We visited windy Whitby for the day and ate loads of yummy food.

I did my Auntie duties by reading books on demand (which would be constantly if my niece had her way) and singing along to Balamory. Those damn songs are so catchy, even a week later I’m still finding myself singing them.

I had not one but two cakes with candles in.

I went on a lovely spa day with my Mum and Sister (there are unfortunately no photos of that, which is probably a good thing as they’d just be photos of me looking relaxed and greasy).

I spent the night in a hotel in Manchester with Scott and we dined on afternoon tea at Harvey Nichols, drank cider in the sunny deckchairs at Spinningfields and ate at one of my favourite restaurants: Jamie’s Italian.

Seriously, it couldn’t have been a better birthday.

Now that I’m 30 I guess people will be expecting me to act slightly more grown up. But to be honest, I don’t feel any older than about 26 and probably won’t for a long time, so good luck with that. I also know from experience that acting like a grown-up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I have been there, done that and it was one of the most boring periods of my life.

No thanks.

So this is my guarantee to you that even though my age might be racking up, I won’t ever take myself too seriously. Whether I’m still travelling or whether I’m married with kids, I promise to always try and see side the light side of life and never conform to anything which wouldn’t make me happy every single day.

Thirties are the new black, right?