I turn 30 this year. I am not afraid.
Being an August baby, I've always been keen to catch up with my peers in the age stakes. I remember how agonising it was, waiting to turn sixteen, seventeen and eighteen, simply to finally be legally allowed to do all the things you'd been doing for years anyway. It seems strange now, to have been in such a hurry to have the next number in the sequence proverbially stamped on your forehead. I can honestly say that 30 is no exception; I'm sprinting for the finishing line. Whilst I acknowledge the significance some may place upon the end of their twenties, I cannot share their trepidation in the face of the big 3-0. For me, this birthday milestone is all about celebrating the passing of my twenties (interspersed as they were with bad boys, poor financial management and regrettable sartorial choices) and embracing my thirties (making good choices, making money, making babies - not yet, Mum & Dad!).