What No One Tells You About Being Single At 30

When you’re single at (almost) 30, it’s pretty much the end of the world. You end up not really fitting in anywhere. You’re too old to go to bars/clubs every night. At 29, you have priorities like a job, so weekday partying is automatically a no-go.

You’re too single to hang out with married people. Their pathetic looks and stories of where their kid hid their poopy diaper isn’t something I can relate to just like they can’t relate to me doing whatever I want whenever I want. So basically, you’re (almost) 30 and screwed.

In my case, I’m lucky. My best friend is just as single as me, I have an awesome job that makes me forget how lonely I am M-F, and sometimes on weekends, and my family has learned not to hassle me about being single/picky.

My best friend and I pretty much do everything together. The crazier the idea, the more likely we are to go through with it. Sometimes, we wonder what other (almost) 30 year-olds think of our antics (We go to raves, hold up D-Fence signs at football games, follow our favorite sports team to places like London and the Bahamas, randomly drive to CT because the guy I’m in love with is from there and I wondered what it was like, etc).

Are they judging us because we haven’t ‘grown up’ or don’t ‘act our age?’ Can someone please tell me how an ‘almost’ 30 year-old is supposed to act, because I am there and really don’t know what I am supposed to do.

Is it acceptable to frequent social media sites? Shop in the Pink section at Victoria’s Secret? Order flavored vodka because clearly, we only drink to get drunk, not drink because we like the taste.

As far as dating, I’m over that. I gave it my all for a little while, and then decided I’d rather stick a needle in my eye than go on another date with another random guy who’d never make it to date number 2. People say I’m too picky. Um, HELLO! I am almost 30!

You think I want to not be picky and date some random loser who will just waste more of my time? NO! I want to make sure a guy is worth dating before I decide to date him.

Want to hear my “picky” qualifications? 1. Must have job (preferably in business) 2. Must have place to live (not live with parent/guardian) 3. Must have vehicle 4. Must have sense of humor 5. Must at least care about fitness and be somewhat healthy 6. Must not be boring 7. Preferably, tall. 5’10 to 6’2ish. (Ok, this one is a little picky, considering I’m 5’3″)

So let’s talk about height. That’s really my only physical thing. And I’ve given in to shorties in the past. You know what I’ve found about shorties? They lie (about their height). They sometimes have really big complexes because they are short (we get it, you can’t shop at Big and Tall). They want to be in charge, because they are MEN after all. (You think this flies well with an independent 29-year-old?) Basically, some shorties come with way too much baggage simply because they are short.

So, if I’m going to date, he will be tall and carry around baggage that has nothing to do with height. Until then, I’m going to stress over turning 30 while being single. I’m going to continue to think it’s the end of the world and continue trying to squeeze a life’s worth of events into the last few months I have left in my 20s.

Because seriously, once I really do turn 30, I’m going to have to grow up, right? I’ll need to stop buying cookie dough to eat raw. Stop checking to see whose pictures the guy I’m interested in has been liking (especially when I text him and he doesn’t reply for 3 hours, but has liked and favorited over a dozen items on social media). Stop sneaking into seats that aren’t mine at events. Should I also stop staying at work late, because it’s the most important thing in my life. Stop being responsible and paying all my bills on time, or even early. Stop traveling all over the country because I want so see everywhere with my own eyes? Stop being that reliable friend who everyone knows will always be there? Stop staying in on a Friday after a crazy work week? Nah.

I think at 30, I’m going to stop giving an (expletive) what people think and continue doing my own thing. Maybe someday, some awesome guy (see qualifications above) will meet me and decide I’m the woman of his dreams and we will live happily ever after. Hey, if not, that’s ok too. Here is to 30!