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The best is yet to come

In 3-months time, I will turn 40. 

I am surprisingly ok with it, looking forward to it even.

I wish I had felt this calm about turning 30, but at the time it literally felt like the worst thing that could have happened to me, like, EVER.

I was not ready to turn 30.  I had not achieved any of the things that I assumed I would.  I did not like my job, my semi-boyfriend, or my hair. 

I spent every penny I earned on myself, and complained about never having any money to spend on myself.

If only I could go back in time, I would give myself a jolly good talking to. 

Tell myself that the best is yet to come.

Of course, my 29-year old self would laugh in my face and offer me a glass of wine, which my 39-year old self would refuse because it is the middle of the afternoon and I have to work the next day.

She would look me up and down, in my ballet flats and mum jeans, and want to cry at what has become of my eyebrows.

I’d suggest that she might want to stop bouncing cheques to Dominos Pizza, and my 29-year old self will roll her eyes at me, like she does to our mother.

We’d sit on the steps of my old basement flat in Maida Vale, while she smokes and bitches about one of her new flatmates.

I’d reassure her that everything is about to change.

That a redhead from Vancouver is going to enter her life the following year and she will make everything better. 

That her other flatmate, the one she is not bitching about, will remain in her life, and in her heart, for a very long time to come.

The 29-year old me will not be able to see it, of course.  It was all about her back then. 

The man you are with is not the man you will love, I’d say. 

She’d smile at this, but then I would have to warn her that it was going to get a whole lot worse before it got any better.

That the year to follow would be her toughest. 

She will think that I am about to tell her that Selfridges is about to close its doors, or even worse, that she will never be able to drink in Soho House again.

At this point in her life, her biggest concern is over how many pairs of shoes to pack for Cannes.

We’ll go back inside and she’ll arrange to meet her sister for pizza.  They will drink rosé in the sun for the rest of the afternoon and as they stagger home, more bottles of wine will clink together in their bags.

This girl is not ready to turn 30.  She thinks it sounds too old.

But as I keep trying to tell her, the best is yet to come.


You can follow me on Twitter @grenglishblogfind me on Facebookand on Pinterest as Grenglish


  1. Funny how hindsight gives the best perspective! I think 10 years ago, I just would not have believed you if you’d told me what situation I am in now. Flat denied the possibility of it ever happening. Probably be quite annoyed about it.

    But then, in the next 10 years, think what could be. I’m hoping it will be marvellous. For you and yours as well. :) x
    motherventing recently posted…GuiltMy Profile

  2. So lovely! I’m 32 and still worry about what shoes I need for Cannes although sensibly didn’t go this year (late applying for accreditation for the film fest) & more importantly in lieu of a family holiday. Maybe next year! You are flipping fab & 40 is the new 30, only better-more self assured & happy it sounds mwah x
    Honest Mum recently posted…Showcasing Accessories from Gold BoutiqueMy Profile

  3. That was so lovely and uplifting! Honestly, you are going to love your forties, it comes with a quiet confidence and wiser strength, I think. I was exactly the same when I turned 29 and 30. I remember my first words on the morning I turned 29…. “Oh my God – I’m twenty-nine!” If I had told my 29 year old self that I was married, living in suburbia with a three year old, and a would-be writer, she would have laughed and laughed and laughed. X.
    older mum in a muddle recently posted…#Once upon a time – Alchemy. Part One.My Profile

  4. HPMcQ says

    29 & 30 were both horrific and brilliant years for me, i am hugely excited about turning 40. You will be fabulous at 40, like you are fabulous at 39. And what’s this refusal of wine about? Or is a cheeky lunchtime prosecco not included in that! X

  5. So lovely! I feel exactly the same – ever since my 28th birthday (I’m 33 now, my husband’s 40), I feel more and more that I’m the person I really want to be, although never realised.

    My 23 year old self was surprise-pregnant and about to get married. I’d have told her to cheer up, miserable piglet. It all turned out brilliantly in the end.

    Thanks for such a great post – fluffed up my wet-feather of a day.

  6. I was starting to worry when I read about the roomates, then sighed with reilef when you mentioned the redhead :) i adore you my sweet Sarah and wish I could be there with you to ring in your Fabulous Forties. I may not be there in person but I will definitely be drinking a bottle of white wine in your honour that day xoxo

  7. Helloitsgemma says

    It’s awful how much of our youth we spending following the wrong paths. Would have do much less to say to my 39 year old self than the 29 year old me! Love this post – it’s good to reflect – it helps you value the good things in the present.

  8. How beautiful, I wish someone could talk to 18 year old me and tell her not to have taken herself so seriously and enjoy life more, as the 28 year old me has since discovered. I have the same sense of not being ‘ready’ for 30 as you said you had, which is reassuring in a way because you ROCK! Hopefully I will too lol
    Tinuke recently posted…Desk Lust – AcryllicMy Profile

  9. noo says

    I adore this. You are star lovely lady . And you look better every time I see you xxxx

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