I had always thought turning 30 would come with some paparazzi and fanfare. You know, those big, symbolic moments. Maybe a neon sign in the sky flashing “Welcome to Adulthood 2.0.” Instead, I woke up today feeling as I felt yesterday and last year, maybe.
Let’s backtrack. The week started innocently. On Monday, I bent down, not squatted, just a gentle bend to pick up a shoe, and my back betrayed me. It gave out a sound; those sounds we watch on Instagram reels crackled and popped so dramatically you’d think I was cornflakes over another cereal. That’s when it hit me: This is thirty. Nah! This is a joke.
You see, I’d always envisioned thirty as a glamorous age. I thought I’d have my life figured out, my wardrobe screaming expensive and rich, and my skin glowing with so much confidence from facial products, with my two kids, a husband and a Tesla in a very beautiful apartment in one of the finest places. Instead, I’m here battling mid-week back aches, today is Wednesday, so I’m right when I said mid-week back aches, trying to still figure out the difference between adulting and surviving, and wondering why my bank account isn’t in billions. I recently asked a friend without thinking, “How many millions are in a billion?” Lol. I probably never thought about it except back in primary school when that teacher, Miss Bunmi or so, was teaching us numbers.
But thirty isn’t just about creaking joints and saying goodbye to your twenties. It’s also a smooth mix of fiction and reality. The kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. I clearlyy remember a conversation with friends and teachers during my time in secondary school, I had confidently told them when I was being asked “So, what’s your dream job?” My instinctive response was “I just want to win as many cases as possible, be a lawyer and help my mom acquire so many lands”
They all laughed, thinking I was joking. I wasn’t. But well, we all know the reality, or at least my friends do. I was the joke at the time.
But don’t get me wrong, thirty comes with its perks. Like the gift of perspective and perceptions. I think my 6th sensory has increased within the last hours of being thirty. I can now spot red flags in people faster than I can spot a clearance sale in a store I’m not interested in. I’m loving the “I can’t come and kill myself” jab. I believe it will bring unparalleled peace navigating the next couple of years. And yes, I’ve mastered the art of curating playlists for any situation, in short, I curated one for my brother about two weeks ago. I didn’t follow up if he liked it or not. I should prioritise creating some for my solo Friday night dance-offs or an impromptu pity party after realising I’m being ghosted by someone who isn’t even attractive. Oh yes! I can still be ghosted. I’m just a girl, after all.
Thirty is also the age of comedy. LOL! Yes, from those who have lived beyond it, they told me, “You’ll find yourself laughing uncontrollably at the sheer absurdity of life.” I mean, did you know that you’re supposed to live without a manual? Another funny thing is, one day, you’ll wonder if this is the best time to start a podcast because, somehow, everyone else seems to have one. I have one already though. You can look it up. I think it’s called Krown’s Pod.
But here’s the twist to it. For every aching back and “what am I doing with my life” confusion, there’s a win waiting around, just by the corner. Maybe it’s a compliment from a stranger or loved ones, a promotion you weren’t expecting, or finally discovering the perfect skincare routine after years of trying. Maybe it’s simply the joy of surviving, thriving, and finding humour in the ridiculousness of it all. Maybe it’s also not taking anything personally, starting a journal, solo travelling or just solo dancing every other Friday night like I plan to for the rest of the year.
So, here I am, thirty and stunning. The backaches are real; the wisdom is slowly marinating, and the comedy? That’s just life’s way of keeping things interesting. If there’s one lesson I’ve learned so far, it’s this: life might not come with all the paparazzi we see in movies or the way that you expected it to be but it’ll throw you a few curveballs, a couple of laughs, and plenty of stories worth sharing. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what makes it all worthwhile.
Here’s to thirty. May my knees and back stay strong, my playlists remain on point, and my sense of humour never fade because I know, I will need it.
- Adeleye Emma-Adewuyi. (Leye Krown)
Seunmanuel Faleye is a brand and communications strategist. He is a covert writer and an overt creative head. He publishes Apple’s Bite International Magazine.
