I’m anxious about turning 30 – but my older friends insist my best years are ahead of me

This year is the last year of my 20s. And I’m terrified. 

It’s strange because I don’t think being 30 is old, and I’m actually grateful to leave the whirlwind of my 20s behind. But still, there’s an ache in my chest every time I think about leaving it.

When I was in my early 20s, I was so excited. 

I had a grand view of the world. I dreamt of becoming a travel influencer or having S$100,000 in my bank account. I bought into the possibility of joining the “Financial Independence, Retire Early (FIRE)” movement. I even allowed myself to get carried away and fantasise about winning an Academy Award, being nominated for a Nobel Prize, making the Forbes 30 Under 30 list, or even writing a Booker Prize-winning novel. 

I am nowhere near any of that.

THE PRESSURE TO ACHIEVE ‘MILESTONES’

I was about 20 when I became sold on the notion that our teens and 20s are the best years of our lives. Everywhere I looked – movies, influencers, novels – the same message was pounded into me: Your 20s are a time of achievement.

I thought this would be the period to settle down with a spouse you love (and for the rest of your life), to own a house and raise a kid or two with said spouse, to find a career you’re sure you’ll always be happy in, to be financially secure, and to frequently pursue big-ticket hobbies like travelling.

And if you don’t build your life empire by 30, you’ll spend the rest of your life catching up.

So with my 30th birthday looming and not having hit every ‘milestone’, I’m filled with a sense of anxiety that I’m getting left behind. It doesn’t just feel like I’m missing a deadline; it feels more like failing a life test I had no idea I signed up for.

Every one of my achievements is measured against an invisible stopwatch, and the time I have to achieve a certain meaning or success in my life is given an expiry date.

I feel that if I do something amazing in my 30s, people won’t think it as great anymore, since it’s something I should have achieved in my 20s.

And then there’s the added pressure as a woman. We have something called a body clock, and people love to remind us that it’s ticking. It’s as if the world is telling women that every milestone we don’t hit – career, marriage, motherhood – is time wasted.

All these pressures point to the real reason turning 30 makes me anxious. It isn't really about me growing old. It’s more about facing the gap between who I thought I’d be and who I actually am.

HOW SOCIAL MEDIA WORSENS THE ANXIETY

I was 14 when Instagram launched, and I created a profile on it (right after the death of Friendster and MySpace) – which means I’ve spent roughly half my life online on that platform.

The effects of that are something I’m still coming to terms with.

I grew up constantly bombarded with images and videos of other people’s lives. Lives of friends, family, acquaintances, and even strangers whose successes and life updates I somehow knew intimately through their curated feeds.

It’s like living in a world where everyone else’s highlight reel plays on repeat while you feel as if you’re stuck behind the scenes.

Jana Dawson, a well-being consultant and the deputy chief executive officer of The School of Positive Psychology, a local education institute that specialises in happiness and well-being, shed some light on this.

She explained how being a digital native, someone who grew up surrounded by modern technological devices and social media, can exacerbate the anxiety about growing older. 

“Social media intensifies feelings of anxiety related to ageing, especially in young millennials or Gen Z, because the platforms have been constantly exposing them to highly curated snapshots of other people’s success from a young age,” she said. 

“Online, it can appear as though everyone else has every aspect of their life sorted – from careers and relationships, to fitness and well-being.”

Even though we know these are just highlight reels, we still consume them endlessly.

“What we rarely see are the uncertainties, struggles, or slow, non-linear growth that happen behind-the-scenes, and that creates a distorted benchmark of what ‘normal’ looks like,” she added. “For those approaching 30, it can feel as if they are falling behind, simply because the digital world accelerates visibility and comparison.”

I’m not saying the solution to this anxiety is that we should all ditch social media – I’m way too deep into it myself (and may or may not be proud of it).

But I can’t deny how it’s shaped my anxieties about ageing and achievement, and that could be my signal to use less of it as I enter my 30s.

MORE MATURE, ASSURED AND SECURE IN MY 30S

Yet, despite the anxiety, I recognise that growing older also brings something precious: Experience. And with this experience comes perspective, and the chance to live more intentionally.

I’m not the same person I was when I entered my 20s. And honestly, what a relief, because I like myself more now.

In the past decade, I learned that I can sometimes be stubborn to the point of arrogance, using my insistence to push people into things they weren’t comfortable with. I also went through a lot of inner conflict to accept that others could hold different values and still be right in their own way. I even had people-pleasing tendencies and often struggled to articulate my own needs.

Now that I’m older, I’m learning to be less reactive and more reflective. Therapy and reading fiction or books on better thinking helped. These avenues are teaching me to pause before responding, to trace where my defensiveness is coming from, and to unlearn the idea that my worth depends on achievement. 

All this is a work in progress, but part of growing older is understanding that my whole life is a work in progress, so I’ll take it.

A friend in her late 30s once told me that the best thing about the decade was having the resources – time, money, and emotional capacity – to truly invest in herself. She started therapy at 33, started a family with a man she loves and respects at 34, and picked up a regular sport at 36 to care for her health after years of neglect.

Another friend, now in her 40s, told me that while she has her regrets, she’s never felt more at peace. After a marriage that didn’t work out, she’s living abroad on her own and pursuing the interests she was never able to. She credits her calmness to the new community she’s found in her neighbourhood mosque and other hobbies she’s discovered.

And my 54-year-old friend, who just welcomed her 10th grandchild, recently started a new career path, leaving counselling for education. She has no intention of slowing down because she’s healthy, strong, and finally has more free time to pursue her interests after being a stay-at-home mum for over a decade.

When I told these friends about my anxiety about turning 30, they laughed gently and said something similar: The best years are still ahead of you.

Dawson explained that an underrated part of growing older is that “ageing often strengthens emotional resilience, because resilience grows with time”.

She added: “With lived experience comes perspective, wisdom, and a deeper ability to regulate stress. As we grow older, we are likely to gain more emotional maturity, and that maturity becomes a powerful guide.

“We begin to understand what genuinely matters, what deserves our energy, and what we can let go of. There is a clarity that comes from lived experience.”

TO GROW OLD IS A GIFT 

Unless I somehow perform a few miracles before my birthday in March next year, it’s unlikely that I’ll find my name on the Forbes 30 Under 30 list or achieve every milestone I once imagined. But when I pause to look back, I realise I’ve already done so much.

I’ve travelled to fascinating places. I’m building a career that gives me purpose and joy. I have friends I trust deeply. I’ve read books that have changed how I see the world and myself for the better. I’ve a close and healthy relationship with my parents, a marriage I’m grateful for, and a beloved son.

These may not be headline-grabbing milestones or situations, but they are still triumphs that have shaped who I am.

For a long time, I carried my anxiety about ageing like a weight. As I begin to understand where it comes from, I’m giving myself more grace. I see how the source of my anxiety can also be a desire to be a better version of myself.

In the meantime, I want to make room for something else alongside the fear: Curiosity.

Rather than obsessing over what I haven’t yet achieved, I’m learning to reframe my thoughts: Look at all I’ve done, and look at everything I still get to do.

This curiosity is what makes me genuinely excited, despite the nerves, about my 30s. There’s still so much to learn, to experience, and to be grateful for – including any regrets.

I’m here. I’m alive. I’m turning 30. Whether this next decade turns out to be the best time of my life or another chapter filled with its own highs and lows, to grow older is a gift – so I’m going to make the most of it.