Even though I’m very aware of the fact that certain ages and life milestones are just social constructs, I’m still both terrified and excited to turn 30. It feels new, big and full of promise – more so than any other age I’ve experienced so far. This age has been looming for a few months now, and I’d find myself telling people I’d just met that I was 30 – just to try it out, like a new outfit that you’re unsure of but kind of like. This uncertainty wasn’t helped by me being one of the first among my friends to reach this milestone. However, what surprised me when I told people I was 30 was that it felt mostly good.

My 20s were marked with a lot of wild fun, confusion and several different hairstyles (yes, including a blonde phase). But one thing that really stands out when I look back on this formative but chaotic decade is that a lot of my 20s were spent worrying about what people would think of me and what was seen as ‘cool’ or not. It’s why I went through several hair and fashion styles and why I would archive my entire Instagram profile at least once a year – to escape any sort of embarrassment or even the potential to be embarrassed. I didn’t really know who I was or how I fit into this world, and I spent so much time worrying about what was acceptable and cool in the eyes of my peers.

But all that worrying was completely exhausting. It’s tiring to use a significant part of your brain power stressing about things that, in the grand scheme of things, aren’t all that important. It’s why I’ve come to the slow realisation that being earnest about the things and people you love may be seen as ‘cringe’ by some, but I’m officially embracing it as I enter my 30s.

Thanks to how chronically online so many of us are, this fear of embarrassment is heightened. Every single thing we share on social media can be viewed by millions of strangers, who are free to mock or laugh at you if they so wish. We’ve never been so aware of our faces, our bodies and our voices.

I thought about doing one of those ‘30 lessons I’ve learned by 30’ lists, but the biggest lesson I’ve learned over the past decade is that being cringe or embarrassing is totally fine, completely freeing and it’s very likely that nobody really cares what you’re doing anyway. In the end, cringe is in the eye of the beholder. And that’s the beauty of humanity: we’re all mostly too busy focusing on ourselves to pay close attention to what someone else is wearing or posting on social media.

I don’t want the fear of awkwardness or embarrassment to rule my life a day longer.

So, I will no longer hide my phone’s screen in public when I’m listening to High School Musical film soundtracks or old One Direction albums. I won’t be talking myself out of buying a hot pink heart-shaped bag again because it might be too ‘girly’. Maybe I’ll even get some of my old cuddly toys out of storage and display them once again in my bedroom. I will no longer hide or be ashamed of my spicy romance novels when I’m asked what I’m reading at the moment.

If I want to post photos of my friends or a career success with an extremely earnest caption on Instagram instead of attempting to think of something funny or witty, I will. Why shouldn’t I share with the world that I love my best friend or that I’m proud of myself for carving out a career path?

In fact, I’ve already prioritised this earnestness in my life by making sure I remember to tell my loved ones how much I appreciate them on a more regular basis (God bless the voice note). If I catch myself overthinking an outfit, concert or hobby in fear of what people may think, I push myself to commit to it; if I want it, then that’s more than enough.

This new stage of my life is definitely still a work in progress, but I’m proud to say that I’m 30 years old and on the road to becoming the most cringe version of myself. I made the decision to come back to my birthplace, Edinburgh, for my 30th birthday in a full-circle moment. And it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made all year. If my 20s were full of chaos and confusion, I’m hopeful that my 30s will be freeing, just as fun and bursting with cringe.

Image: Shahed Ezaydi