Thirty-Three

Unconventional wisdoms from an adulting thirty something.

Last month I turned thirty three.

In my teens, I thought being in my twenties would feel very adult.

If you’re anything like me, we all know, our twenties was more about taking full advantage of our newly bestowed titles as ‘adults’ while also living life carefree, with minimal responsibilities, while still in the depths of figuring out ourselves and our careers, with plenty late nights of questionable decision and days of irresponsibility.

In my twenties, I thought being in my thirties will finally mean I am in true adulting mode—and that being an adult will be my natural state of being. I am thirty three and I am still waiting for that moment, when I feel like a true adult. (=P)

If you’re anything like me, my milestone three decades on earth was celebrated in the depths of the 2020 global meltdown—you know, that infamous existential collective experience we were forced into—in the lockdowns of the pandemic.

I spent that year alcohol free, reflecting on the past decade, which seemed t…