Gen Y Speaks: I was anxious about turning 30 — but now I’m loving it

Over half a year ago, I hit the big “3-0” — a milestone that perhaps should signify that I am no longer a young girl, but an adult woman. Greater burdens on my shoulders, and no more permission to be carefree and child-like.
A strong sense of anxiety seized me in the months leading up to my 30th birthday, as if I were being led to some kind of doomsday.
A friend cautioned: “Once the clock strikes 12, we will no longer be eligible for Forbes 30 under 30.” 
Despite the obvious jest, losing eligibility for Forbes 30 under 30 was but the tip of the iceberg. 
The same friend, who is two years my senior, informed me that some degree of ageing anxiety was nothing out of the ordinary. As we enter our third or fourth decade of life, many of us, especially women, are easily struck by the fear of getting old, or Fogo. 
My own experience with Fogo led me to become preoccupied with what it would feel like to be in the group of 30-somethings. Would I still look the same? Would I feel the same?
I felt myself becoming more sensitive to things around me that were reminding me of my age. A sense of dread grew within me the more I thought about the negative aspects of ageing I would soon be facing.  
Possibly by some algorithm that could tell my gender and age, my social media news feeds began to show more anti-ageing treatments and procedures. 
Wrinkles, saggy skin and hair loss were some issues the algorithm evidently expected me to soon be facing, going by the copious advertisements that appeared whenever I scrolled through Instagram and Facebook. 
I started doubling up on my sunscreen every morning and looking into anti-ageing skincare products.
I also began fretting over whether my physical fitness would soon plunge into free fall.
At the yoga studio where I attend classes, an iPad is placed at the reception desk for attendance taking. On the screen, the name and age of each student are displayed prominently. 
I couldn’t help but peek at the ages of the other attendees. Many were still in their early 20s, or even younger. 
For the first time in my life, my age seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. Despite not having any prior issues with yoga, I now started wondering if I would still be physically able to keep up with the rest of the students for long.  
As the ageing anxiety mounted, the academic nerd in me took over and I threw myself into research.
According to a study published in Social Indicators Research in 2021, happiness follows an inverted U-shape curve, peaking at age 30 to 34. 
If this is true, I should, right now, be the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.
Why then should I be unnecessarily worried about age during what is supposedly or potentially the best period of my life — at least according to science?
Comforted by data, I decided I would try a new mindset: “Take this as just another new experience or opportunity for learning.”
The big day came and went, filling me with so much dread that I did not really celebrate my birthday at all, wanting to get through it quietly instead. 
But as the months went by, I soon realised nobody around me was really paying attention to my newly attained age. 
Everyone was simply much too busy and focused on their own lives to scrutinise something as mundane as the extra year I’d tacked onto my life. The scrutiny I’d felt on me was coming only from myself. 
To put my hypothesis to the test, I conducted a little experiment. 
I entered an artistic gymnasium at a shopping mall which held classes mainly for children and adolescents, but also allowed for self-practice whenever there were no ongoing classes.
The receptionist didn’t seem one bit surprised to see me walk in. She also didn’t flinch when I signed up. She simply collected my entrance fee before showing me to the area where I could change my clothes. 
As I jumped up and down on the trampoline or clumsily fell from the balance beam, I sometimes attracted curious looks from shoppers passing, who were probably not accustomed to seeing an adult in it.
Yet, many of them gave only cursory glances, no more than half a second, before hurrying on their way.
Emboldened by the results of this experiment, I started looking into doing other things I’d never dared to do in my youth due to lack of confidence in my capabilities, unwillingness to step out of my comfort zone, or fear of making a fool of myself.
Having been secretly interested in cheerleading during my secondary school days, I now enrolled myself in fun tumbling and cartwheel classes.
In junior college, I also spent much time on YouTube admiring chair fitness feats, a form of exercises that allows one to perform balancing or acrobatic stunts on a chair — so I now joined classes for that, too. 
Two months ago, I set my sights on pulling off a one-handed somersault, something I had never been able to do as a child. 
I engaged a private instructor and asked them if learning the move required some extra measure of finesse or flexibility. The instructor said it was neither of those things, but more about overcoming one’s own mental block of fear and being committed to envisioning one’s success. 
In a matter of weeks, I was able to do it — to the surprise of not just my peers, but myself.
Having been able to successfully do a somersault on a trampoline was not just picking up an interesting skill or exploring an unconventional way to keep fit. 
For me, it was a milestone in instilling a growth mindset in me — one that showed me that I can still learn what I want, even at this big age. 
Looking back, turning 30 was a valuable lesson in embracing the unknown and discarding anxiety. Once I did that, the big 3-0 proved to be not at all intimidating, but rather quite the adventure.
I even find that I prefer myself in present state at 30, compared to who I was in my 20s. The me of my 20s was often plagued by self-doubt that held me back from a multitude of new activities and experiences, but 30-year-old me is more rational in the head, courageous in the heart, and adventurous in spirit.
If you’ve ever thought: “I am too old for this”, I’d like to encourage you to instead think: “Now I am ready to do this”.
Regardless of age, we should all be allowed to do what lights us up, what we are curious about, what brings us joy and helps us feel free.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alvona Loh Zi Hui is a medical doctor who works in Singapore.