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(This is cross-posted at BlogHer.)

Many females — especially if they’re single and don’t want to be, or they’re in a relationship where they don’t know where things are going, or if they haven’t accomplished something in particular they wanted to do — look at the prospect of turning 30 and think they should have done something…bigger…than what they have. It’s a big turning point; when you enter your 20s from your teens, it’s usually not considered a big deal. But going from your 20s to your 30s — now, that’s a different story.

I still have a few years in front of me before I hit my 30th year, and it would be easy enough from this vantage point to say those feelings of insecurity won’t affect me — but who can say that for sure? Who knows how I’ll feel in just under three years’ time? At this point, I still have time to think about what where I’d like to be, and what I’d like to be doing, without stressing too much that I won’t be able to reach my goals. (Or in my case, I feel like I still have time to actually decide what it is I want those goals to be.)

One thing I’ve noticed, though, is that the prospect of turning 30 seems to be worse than the reality. Once a person reaches this age and realizes they still feel like the same person, it’s easy enough to keep going with their life as they have up to that point. I’ve had more than one person tell me they really enjoy being in their 30s; that they wouldn’t want to go back to being in their 20s. I can’t say that I’m sitting here at the age of 27 and wanting to be older, but knowing that when I get to that point I’ll most likely be okay with where I am, makes me feel a lot better.

Samaraleigh feels comfortable being in her 30s.

I remember when I was quickly approaching my thirtieth and my older friends would rant and rave about how great the big 3-0 was. Back then, in my 20-something naivete, I thought it was a big old lie they were telling me. To make them feel better about getting older. I quickly discovered it was not a lie at all. Since turning 30 some 7 years ago I have learned a lot about me. I don’t feel the need to sugar coat my words, or explain my actions. I don’t apologize for my mistakes and I no longer beat myself up over them either. I don’t live by someone else’s definitions of what I should be, how I should look or what I should wear. My madness is my own, even without rhyme or reason.

I can drink with the best of the 20-something crowd. But I have the wisdom to know when to stop. I take pleasure in my size 10 frame. I have a level of confidence that most women in their 20s have yet to discover. The type of confidence that attracts men of all ages. From 22-62. Yeah, you can’t do that in your twenties.

Joanne is okay with being in her 30s, but she doesn’t like the toll that aging is taking on her body:

Yes, I know, I turned 30 months ago! No need to remind me. This weekend Paul and I are traveling to LA for Rich and Saran’s 30th birthday celebration cruise to Mexico. The pending 30th birthdays brought back my reservations about hitting this milestone. I’m not one to be all dramatic and sad about switching decades, and I’ve long said that age is just a number. (because, it is!) BUT, turning 30 definitely brought me to reality in terms of physically aging. I still feel young and will forever exercise and eat well to slow down the process of aging, but it is a reality that I am a human being whose natural course is to age.

I love being older and supposedly “wiser” (ha!), but physically, I do miss going out for run, not stretching, and feeling no pangs of soreness whatsoever. And let’s be honest, I’m vain, so I can do without the wrinkles. What about the days when hangovers only lasted a couple hours, if at all you ever even got one? Who am I kidding? I can’t even have 1/2 a beer without feeling tipsy. Sigh…

Mean Katie knows how big a deal it is to turn 30, but she has a good attitude about it. (And she may be called Mean Katie, but she doesn’t sound so mean to me…)

There is so much hype about turning 30. Its a pretty big birthday. You are no longer in your twenties, but you aren’t quite in your thirties; you’re just thirty. Apparently, when you are 30, you should magically have all your shit together, be secure in your career of choice, have a significant other with a prospect of either marriage or children, have already or be in the process of buying a house/condo, and be on the road to the height of the American Dream. [...]

My favorite part about turning 30 was the women who upon finding out would say “welcome to the club. It only gets better,” and listening to the people who had a hard time turning 30 say things like “it all goes downhill from here” and thinking to myself… “not for me!”

It was also fun to (after a crazy weekend of celebrating the last hours of my twenties) to wake up Monday morning and say “I did that crap when I was in my twenties!”

So, Here’s to 30. Bring it!

Here’s another Katie:

Why is it that on the eve of turning 30 I am just now realizing what an idiot I was at 20? You think that life would have been much easier if I had come to that conclusion when I was in a place to do something about it. But oh no, life lessons are often learned with an eye to the past.

So my question is this . . . Now that I know that I knew a whole lot of nothing at the ripe old age of 20, and yet I thought I had it all figured out, what does that say about what I think I know now that I’m almost 30? [...]

I think it’s required to have some sort of mid-mid-life crisis when the big THREE-OH approaches your door, but in all honesty I’m more side-swiped by it. These last few years have snuck up on me and my basic math skills have fallen by the way-side in the process. To think that each additional year added to the sum total of years is a concept I seem to have grown slightly and yet consciously ignorant of.

I mean 30 equates to all sorts of things: marriage, family, dog, home, ability to cook a meal that doesn’t come from a frozen box/bag or at least includes 5 ingredients, being a “grown up”, and other such things that just seem to be a part of life at 30. Hmmm, this isn’t to say that I think my life isn’t up to snuff for 30, but maybe more 30 isn’t up to snuff for my life. I’m happy, I have a job I love, I have amazing friends, and there are still many many years ahead for all that other “stuff”.

Bandanagirl is glad she’s no longer in her 20s:

I know that is not a common reaction to the event of turning 30…but I personally, am glad my 20′s are over. My twenties had their ups and downs, but mostly they sucked.

In your twenties, you are still unsure of yourself, not grounded, not comfortable in your own skin. I made a lot of mistakes in my 20′s that I am still paying for. I went through single parenthood of a beautiful daughter, financial woes, a wild streak, drug addiction and recovery of a loved one, marriage, a wonderful son, moving to a new city twice, meningitis….Shall I go on?

On my 30th birthday I felt this sense of relief….I am 30….I don’t have to try to keep up with the young fads that never work for me…I do not have to try to impress anyone other than my husband and kids, cause nobody cares anyway. In your 20′s friends are everything…now they are like seasoning in my life, but they are not the whole meal. In my 20′s, I liked who I was if I thought others liked who I was…Now, I like who I am and if someone doesn’t, I don’t give a damn. I can confidently make my own decisions, even if they meet the disapproval of well meaning friends. I can look how I want, dress how I want, spend my time how I want and most of all, say NO when I want to.

I look forward to my 30′s…the older women say it gets better from here. I hope they are right.

Madame Pinot isn’t so happy about it:

I know it sounds dumb, but I’m having a hard time with it. There is no reason to have a hard time with it. People turn 30 every day, they seem to make it through it alive.

As I was flipping through May’s InStyle last night, it hit me as to why I’m having a hard time with this. There was a section on skincare and what you should do when. They have the 20′s box, the 30′s box, etc. I will no longer be in the 20′s box. I’ll have to be in the 30′s box for the next 10 years. But I don’t think of myself as being 30. 30 is old. Well not really, but you know what I mean.

So, when I turn 30 (in 15 days), does it mean I have to dress and act like a 30 year old? Can’t I be 30 and still act like a 28 or 29 year old? Can I still read what 20-somethings are doing to combat the aging process? I mean, it’s not like I’m turning 35, or 39 even. I’m just breaking into the 30-something world…

I’m not ready to grow up.

If you’re not 30 yet, what are your thoughts? If you’re over 30 — did you have those feelings of insecurity, like thinking you should have accomplished something that you hadn’t? Are you over it now? Would you rather be in your 30s (or above) than in your 20s?

Related reading:

Towanda has some advice “for those embarking on their 30th birthday, those newly inducted, and those that have been in “thirtyhood” for a while.”

Christine has 30 thoughts on turning 30.

Francesca Lefante wrote an article about turning 30 called “Crossing A Threshold Of Maturity.”

(This is cross-posted at BlogHer.)

I’ve decided that I’m never getting married. The reason is, if I do, my husband might decide he no longer has to contribute his share to the household chores. If I live with someone, there’s a higher probability that our non-legal status will keep him on his toes. Or so this study seems to be saying.

I consider this to be a “feel-good study,” because any adult who reads it can relate to it in some way. It attempts to offer an explanation for why some men do less housework after they get married, but in actuality it seems to be designed to make all groups feel better. For instance:

Singles and unmarried couples who don’t want to get married: “Yes! This is yet another reason why I’m glad I’m not married!”

Unmarried men: “Oh, good. Once I get married, I’ll have an excuse to cut back on the amount of housework I do. This study justifies my future life of slackerdom!”

Married women: “That’s right; he has been doing less housework since we got married. Now I know why.”

Married men who DON’T do their share of housework: “Yeah, that’s right. I’m not alone. This makes me feel better because now there’s no reason for me to change.”

Married men who DO their share of housework: “I’m more helpful than most of my male counterparts. I’m such a wonderful guy. What a lucky woman my wife is.” (Puffs chest.)

There should be negotiations and compromises involved with this process. I can’t see anyone not getting married because they were worried their future husband might start slacking in his cleaning duties. Plush Duck says it well:

Commitment in a relationship should work as an incentive to stay and work through relationship difficulties (even arguments over the equality of chores), not as a carrot to “keep the edge in a relationship,” as if both parties were operating in the free market of coupling where the competition is fierce and either party can move on to greener pastures at any time. Maybe that is a more accurate description of the coupling landscape these days; in which case, I thank the Lord that I am married because I don’t need that kind of stress in my life.

My experience: everyone hates chores. Yet, if men refuse to do them because “it isn’t their job” and women spurn them to “stick up for their rights,” the consequences get ugly pretty fast — the home becomes a pigsty, the children do not learn to take care of themselves or to help others, and life becomes an endless series of ‘action items” stretching out before the family like some torturous obstacle course because no one has mastered the mundane to make time for the extraordinary.

Ideally, the amount of housework someone is expected to do should be proportionate to their other responsibilities. Chores that one or the other person doesn’t mind doing should also be taken into consideration. Maybe you like vaccuming, and he’s a whiz at keeping the mildew off the shower walls. Or one person washes and folds clothes while the other has ironing duties.

Lawanda:

It seems only right that we should individually play to our strengths in each household to divvy up the “chores”. Which means that at your house you may take out the trash every week. Or maybe one of your kids does that job. But at my house, my husband does the trash. Perhaps at your house, you do all the vacuuming while your kids do all the dishes… or something like that.

Maverick, a male, agrees.

Reduce the tension and tedium by volunteering for housework that doesn’t drive you crazy. My buddy Josh hates washing silverware, but unlike most people, he doesn’t mind scrubbing pots and pans. So after dinner he tackles the heavy metal while his wife merrily tends to the flatware. Compromises like this make a relationship work.

Misi lives in Africa, and says the division of household labor there certainly isn’t equal.

Why do most African men feel that the kitchen, child-caring, and general domestic housework inherently belongs to the woman? For many years African men have carried the notion that it’s the woman’s place to take care of the kitchen, cook the meals and care for the children. Back in the day, this concept was mildly acceptable since women were full-time housewives whilst the husband worked outside the home.

However, this myth has continued into the 21st century even though more and more African women are becoming career-oriented people earning a living away from home. This inevitably means both spouses now work as hard as the other, away from home with both contributing to pecuniary income. Yet, though the wife returns home from work at the same time or even later than the husband, she’s expected to prepare dinner for them, whilst the husband just lazes around watching television and not thinking that his wife might also be exhausted from a long day of work. Woe betide her if the baby should cry for a diaper-change at the same time, then she’d have to switch on her multitasking skills, since it’s a given that she has to change the diaper too because husband’s TV program CANNOT be interrupted.

Sin City Siren:

Too bad for most Americans that (hetero-marriage-based) ideal is the equivalent of “the wife,” in all its 1950s-stereotype glory. Being a wife myself, this grates on a personal level. For the past 10 years my husband and I have split the housework in as equitable a fashion as possible. No system is perfect and we certainly have had to make revisions over the years. Look, nobody likes housework! Nobody! It’s monotonous and often involves lifting, dirt, odors or other irritations. But that’s the stuff of life, even in this modern age. Things get dirty. Things fall apart. Things have to be put in their place. Bills have to get paid. Etc. Etc.

How do you divvy up household chores (or not)?