30. November 2021

30

I remember how big of a deal it was when I turned 20—the end of being a teenager, the end of carefree childhood, basically, the end of everything. Society lures us into thinking that whenever we change decades, everything is over; turning 30 means getting old, turning 40 means getting older, turning 50, and so on. But I’m not having it. Not this year. My 20s were the full package; I’ve had wild times and sick times and sad times and joyful times—it was all in there.

Sure, I have moments when I think: This is it? Will it go on like this? Am I moving fast enough? These thoughts always lead me to the scene in Miranda July’s movie The Future, where the main character Sophie and her boyfriend Jason want to adopt an old cat. The vet says: “If he bonds with you, he can easily hang on five years.” “We’ll be 40 in five years.” “40 is basically 50, and then …” “… That’s it for us!” They start to reprioritize things; get rid of the internet, try to find their purpose in life. We all do that, all the time, right? I’m not going to just start now. I’m already in the middle of it. And 30, that’s certainly not the end of it.

I drew this drawing when I turned 20. I lived in Nottingham at the time, was about to finish my design studies and was genuinely excited for what’s to come. I just updated it now as I turn 30. On we go.