Can I Ask You a Personal Question?

Can I Ask You a Personal Question?

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Can I Ask You a Personal Question?
Can I Ask You a Personal Question?
ADVICE FOR SOMEONE ABOUT TO TURN THIRTY
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ADVICE FOR SOMEONE ABOUT TO TURN THIRTY

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JennyMollen
Jun 12, 2025
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Can I Ask You a Personal Question?
Can I Ask You a Personal Question?
ADVICE FOR SOMEONE ABOUT TO TURN THIRTY
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Brook, I loved your piece about turning 40. It resonated so much, and I hate that you are spot on with every detail. I, too, have been trying to remind myself that the 40s are still young in the scheme of things. Even though my seven-year-old looks at me like I’m the Lochness monster, I can still pull off mid-thirties if I’m only seen through a rearview mirror.

I remember freaking the fuck out when I was thirty-three. I was a basket case over the fact that my Barry’s Bootcamp instructor was three years younger than me. It made it difficult even to attend class. How could I feel at all hot when I was old enough to be that instructor’s MUCH older sibling?

Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Or for the sake of this article, thirty/ thirty. For people about to embark upon this absolutely bonkers period, I’d say the following.

  1. PLEASE DO NOT BEAT YOURSELF UP FOR NOT HAVING IT ALL FIGURED OUT.

    I don’t think there is a time in life, aside from maybe our parents’ passing, when more change occurs. I started out my thirties as a fun-loving fuck up and ended them with two kids, two books, and a completely different life in New York City. Whatever you think is happening, wherever you feel you are emotionally, physically, spiritually, get ready for all of that shit to get turned on its head. At thirty, you should have nothing figured out. LITERALLY NOTHING. Real life doesn’t even start until around thirty-five.

  2. DO NOT FUCK WITH YOUR FACE

    I was so paranoid in my thirties about no longer being in my twenties. I started doing all sorts of fillers and bullshit that I thought might stave off my gradual descent into crypt keeper. None of it worked. I repeat, NONE OF IT WORKED. I recall once doing some primitive micro-needling procedure at a strip mall in LA that left me looking like I’d been dragged behind a truck. The redness lasted for two weeks. And the end result: NOTHING. My filler journey was also pointless. By thirty-nine, I dissolved all of it. I wish I’d spent the money on jewelry instead.

    (What was I even trying to achieve?)

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