I remember being young, saying I was going to have this, going to have that – how many kids I’d have, that I’d be married by the time I hit 30. Haha… boy, was I wrong.
Looking back now, I have to give it to myself for the imagination, because in reality, none of that happened. I don’t think I was being realistic with myself… and honestly, I think that’s true for most people.
The age of 30 used to feel daunting. I was surprised to reach it – not for any specific reason, just the realisation of wow…I’m actually a grown man. I can’t lie; there were times when I didn’t believe I’d make it to this age at all.
A whole me. Tyrell. 30.
In the early stages of being 29 and approaching 30, that fear was loud. But as the moment got closer – and now that I’m here – I’ve realised there’s actually nothing to be scared of.
Reaching 30 didn’t come with fireworks, clarity, or a sudden sense of having life figured out. What it came with was perspective. A quiet one. The kind that only arrived after you’ve been through enough to realise that just being here is an achievement in itself.
For a long time, I measured life by milestones – marriage, kids, stability, success – all tied to an age I thought I had to beat. Plans I made when I was young and untouched by reality. But life has a way of humbling you, reminding you that it doesn’t run on timelines and it doesn’t care how clear your vision once felt.
There were periods where the future felt uncertain. Times when my mental state and life itself made it hard to imagine growing older. So reaching 30 doesn’t feel like a failure to meet expectations – it feels like survival. Like resilience. Like a quiet victory that only I truly understand.
I’ve learned that being 30 isn’t about having everything figured out. It’s about knowing yourself better. Knowing your limits. Knowing when to rest without guilt, when to push without punishment, and when to let go of things that no longer serve you. It’s about unlearning the pressure to perform life ‘correctly’ and choosing to live it honestly instead.
Thirty has shown me that strength doesn’t always look loud or productive. Sometimes, it looks like simply getting. Through the day. Sometimes it looks like protecting your peace. sometimes it looks like choosing yourself – even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it doesn’t make sense to anyone else.
Looking back at the younger version of myself, the one who thought life would be nearly boxed by 30, I don’t feel disappointment. I feel compassion. That version of me didn’t know what was coming – the challenges, the setbacks, the growth. He was dreaming about what he knew at the time, and that’s okay.
Because the truth is, I don’t feel behind. I feel aligned. I feel like I’ve arrived at a place where I finally understand myself, my body, my mind and my priorities. And maybe that’s what 30 is really about – not ticking boxes but stepping into clarity.
So no, life doesn’t look how I imagined all those years ago. But it looks real. It looks earned. And for the first time, I don’t feel like I’m running out of time – I feel like I’m just getting started.
This isn’t the end of anything. This is me entering my Prime. Entering my best – finally becoming who I was always meant to be.