As I approach my 35th birthday, I’m excited to share my birthday wish list with you, highlighting just how gloriously uncool it is to be in your mid-30s. Here’s what I gave my husband and daughter to work with:
- candles (I even sent him an e-coupon for some)
- two pairs of comfy moccasins
- slipper booties for ultimate coziness
- a gift card for books (because, duh)
- a Lane Bryant gift card for some new undies
- something pop culture-related that I’d enjoy, like, “I don’t know, a pin or a patch or a card with inspirational words that I can frame.”
While I genuinely want all these goodies, the wish list is more of a multiple-choice format — my husband and kid can pick one or two to surprise me with. And yes, we’re heading to a “cabin in the woods” for some quality time by the fireplace, complete with mandatory dinner reservations.
Now that I’ve voiced this list out loud and mentioned the cozy cabin, it’s safe to say I’m probably typing this from the afterlife, having succumbed to boredom from my own life choices. Between my wish list and the Thomas Kinkade-style weekend, I’m also battling chin hair, flaunting granny panties, managing foot fungus, and contemplating my mortality almost every night.
But let’s be real — being in your 30s is actually a blast! There’s a certain freedom in being comfortably uncool, and I’m here for it. I’ve always been a fan of comfy underwear, books are my forever love, and if lounging was an Olympic sport, I’d win gold every time. Honestly, I only included the card with words and pin because I wanted to appear 35 instead of 82. You know, like looking back through a rearview mirror — things might seem older than they are.
Just a few weeks ago, I found myself at a bar with a dance floor, and some dude called me “ma’am.” Instead of sulking in the corner, I hit the dance floor and embraced my inner mentor to the younger crowd. I even found myself saying, “In my day…,” and then concluded with, “we didn’t have our hands on the floor with our butts in the air.”
Mind you, I’m not a total buzzkill; I save my judgmental attitudes for those who love me despite my quirks. I wasn’t even mad about the awkward movements happening during Beyoncé’s “Run the World (Girls).” I worked through it and had a blast because that’s the beauty of being in your mid-30s — I don’t need to impress anyone anymore. I have a pair of sweatpants with a hole in them waiting for me at home, and a partner who loves me even with my fashion faux pas. Plus, my child, while often disdainful of my existence, occasionally brings me snacks when I’m deep in couch potato mode, which I appreciate.
In my younger years, I would have been embarrassed to admit my love for granny panties, but now? I’d proudly wave them from a flagpole if I could! The biggest myth is that wearing granny panties leads to a joyless life. If I could, I’d have that carved onto my tombstone. And my trusty crotch-hole sweatpants? They inspire me — who knows where I’d be if I put as much effort into other areas of life as I do into finding the perfect comfy pair?
So bring on 35, 40, and beyond! This year, my Christmas wish is for laser hair removal, and I can’t wait to kick off the next chapter.
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In summary, being in your mid-30s is a delightful blend of embracing the uncool and enjoying the little things in life, like comfy clothes and a good book. The freedom to be yourself is what makes this stage of life truly enjoyable.