An annual seven-figure salary, a self-owned house with a fleet of cars that scream luxury, a life companion who is freaking beautiful inside and out, kickass mornings that begin with Future’s track “Life is Good“, and being in the best possible physical and mental state. Life at 30 was supposed to look picture-perfect. Right?
I mean, at least this was the idea of a “quintessential 30-year old’s life” that was sold to us by the world in our mid and late twenties. Then what exactly went wrong? Why does this rosy narrative of success not match our current reality? Why do we, even at 30, feel lost and unsure of ourselves?
30 was the age we were supposed to be in cruise control and at the peak of our game. Then why does this thought of “feeling behind in life at 30” overwhelm us sometimes?