Don't Tell Tara - the inner workings of a chronic oversharer

We’re 8 months deep in 2018, and I am slowly (and reluctantly) coming round to the fact that, in 32 days, I will be 30 years old. I have nearly been alive for 3 decades. Halfway to 60. Let’s just chew on that for a second.   No, I’m not okay with it yet – I wish I had the cushion of a couple more years in my twenties, because everything sounds so much more grown up when you’re 30. You’re a real, fully fledged adult. That’s what they tell you anyway. My friend said something to me when we were discussing the impending birthday, that was both obvious yet surprising.   The period between 20 and 30 is probably the most dramatic, life changing decade of your life. You literally grow up. You go from being a teenager with minimum responsibility and the world at your feet, to paying bills, worrying about your metabolism, going to 15 weddings a year and organising baby showers. Yep, that escalated quickly. So, if I could do it all again, would I do anything different? ...

It’s my birthday next month.. 27. Wait, WHAT? Twentyfuckingseven . How the hell am I in my late 20’s? I remember being 21, I vaguely remember my 23 rd  but I’m sure I missed 25? 26 was only last week wasn’t it? Shit. I remember thinking that when I hit 27 I would have all my shit together; it was easy, I had like 7 years! Bags of time, that’s at least 364 Saturday morning hangovers, 1,820 days of work, 2,555 days to find a boyfriend, nail him down and marry him. HEAPS of time. But here I am, 27 is 35 days away and I’m still single. So if I were to have a Rachel Green moment, if I meet a guy now, date for at least a year or two, get engaged, save for the wedding, get married, wait a year or so, get pregs, 9 months later have a baby... I’m like nearly 40 right? Jokes babes, more like 31. But still, that's scary.  The silliest thing about all this? Why am I attempting to map out my life now when I appear to have failed to follow any of the ‘rules’ for the past 27 years?...