Last year I hit the big 4-0, and like everyone else I received a number of cards which claimed "Life begins at 40!" and "40 is the new 30". An interesting claim, and reassurance I didn't really need as (bizarrely) turning 40 seemed to me to be less daunting than turning 30.
I hit the end of my third decade with a huge amount of trepidation. Somehow 30 meant I was no longer "young", I had responsibilities and was well on my way to Middle Age. This reluctance to change the digit in the tens column of my age was totally absurd when you consider that I left home at 18, was a homeowner with a mortgage at 21, a mother at 24 and again at 28, married at 26 (yeah ok, ok, I did things the wrong way around) and could in no way be termed "footloose and fancy free" during my twenties.