Bitterness on the wrong side of Thirty

I write this whilst on a two-hour train journey to Monserrat from Barcelona in Spain and the words of Lily Allen’s song, 22 is stuck on repeat in my head. Poignant and a realist, Lily hits the nail on the head.

It dawned on me three days after my 29th birthday that I have a year left until I hit my 30s and a big change in my life would be coming it would be the end of an era, the dreaded three ‘0’. I’m sure it isn’t a big deal but I look at a group of girlfriends I have who that are older than me who are already in their mid 30s, battling stigma, still single and unable to find a person to keep them happy for further than three months.

From the age of 28 I got engaged, planned a wedding and now whilst on my honeymoon deliberating, why I never judged these women like everyone else. This group of older females who just tried to sabotage the biggest day of my life and created unreasonable drama leading up to it……. And even now I am still not judging.

Mean Girls.

Until now. Fast forward four years later, and this little piece I started writing of pondering thoughts about life and friendship has been sitting in my desktop folder and collecting dust. When I started writing this article it ultimately became a bit of a bitch fest ending. I think it was more of an outlet for me to try and explain a phenomenon amongst women in a certain age group past the so called expiry date for marriage and kids who turn on their younger peers. Behaviour I couldn’t understand at the time. I decided to update it as my life had changed so much but yet I still felt the same sentiments. I also understood a lot more and also I would never accept women behaving like this, it was a learning curve for me.

When you break the so called society norm of what is expected of women then you are seen as a spinster, a loner ultimately there is something wrong with you and if you don’t have a career to credit your existence with then you are just a general loser in life. Harsh words. Harsh, but true.

My fear was that I would move in to my 30s and become one of these bitter old hags hating on the younger generation. But as with all the older friends I have, I have just as many younger and I can safely say I get on with all just fine aside this one few that had unfortunately had the displeasure of sparking a friendship with that wasn’t to last long. I am 33, married with two kids now.  I no longer talk to said mentioned women who now a fair bit older are probably still battling the same bitterness and hatred towards society and life in general.

I can’t tar all women with this brush but it does happen. It’s a shame, society label us women and dictate our fate before even giving us a chance to get older and wiser and these same women turn on each other, permeating bitterness, in complete darkness, who then become unapproachable and completely unloved misanthropic human beings beyond the hope of no return with no hope for acceptance for the life path that has been chosen for us.


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