Thirty-Something Never Felt So Good
What it feels like to be in your mid-30s: cozy evenings with GMO docs and KonMari books.
Finding Peace & Acceptance: Growing Into Your Thirties
In your mid-30s, growth feels like finally learning the language of your own needs — gentle, deliberate and nonnegotiable — while healing is the patient work of setting boundaries that honor your time, energy and joy. Expectations shrink to what truly fits your life and freedom blooms in the quiet certainty that saying no is as much an act of love as saying yes.
A Journey Toward Peace & Acceptance
In a few short weeks I’ll be 36 — a number I never pictured myself reaching so optimistically. My mom had four kids by this age, with another on the horizon; the kind of nonstop responsibility she handled then feels like a different universe to me. These days, people seem either more guarded or more self-focused (maybe both) and I’m not immune. After watching my parents’ divorce ripple through our family, I promised myself I wouldn’t invite that kind of upheaval in.
Instead, my thirties have quietly become a brilliant turning point: a little wild, a lot wonderful and surprisingly carefree. I wrapped up teaching English in South Korea, relocated to Chicago for a Master’s and celebrated becoming an aunt — twice. Most importantly, I’ve learned to tend to myself. I’ve discovered what feeds me and what drains me and frankly, I don’t have room for the latter anymore.
Lately, my evenings have looked a little different: instead of doom-scrolling, I’ve been Netflixing stand-ups — Chris Rock, Dave Chappelle, Ali Wong — and laughing my way through observations that somehow feel aimed at me. One comedian joked that your thirties are when you suddenly start watching GMO documentaries and devouring books like The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. Guilty as charged (you should see my drawers).
But somewhere between the laughter and the neat socks, I’ve learned to cut myself a little slack and focus on what actually matters. My thirties have sharpened a simple truth: life is too short to sit in self-loathing or linger around people who drain you. So, I get intentional about my days. I’m disciplined without being cruel — I do work I love, eat well, move my body, sleep when I need to and, crucially, I take care of myself.
One delightful habit I’ve adopted is treating each birthday as a gentle invitation to honor myself. Instead of worrying over parties or expectations, I pick a new place and go — no rigid plans, no pressure. There’s something electric about arriving someplace unfamiliar: the small discoveries, the imperfectly perfect moments, the feeling of being gloriously untethered. Who couldn’t use more of that?
This year’s plan was Cuba but Hurricane Irma had other ideas, so I pivoted — and I’m thrilled to start my next chapter in Dublin. A city brimming with history and warmth, it feels like the perfect place to wander, learn and let my curiosity lead.
And so begins a new birthday adventure each year — likely destined to unfold here. Enjoy the journey.
