I went to the club Saturday night with some of my fellow 30+ girlfriends. We had a blast dancing and laughing a people watching. We all wore pants and moderately sensible footwear. We didn’t accept drinks from swarthy men. We didn’t need to be carried out the door by security and no one took home a one night stand or even a phone number. I mean, we got approached, I don’t want to mislead you into thinking we were unapproachable. We GOT hit on. Thankfully, all of us look younger than our age and those 22 year olds would probably be mildly appalled if they found out we were born in the 80s… In my twenties, I didn’t do too much of the club scene. I mean I did a couple times a year and it was usually a fun time, but I always managed to feel less cool than everyone else. Now, as a married 31 year old, I looked at these young girls with their rompers and their contouring and their superhigh heels and I feel like I sort of missed out. Did I not spend enough time being young and dumb? I honestly never gave much thought to it because I always felt like I did fun things, travelled and made my life enjoyable, but something started gnawing at me after this trip to the club. Maybe this happens to a lot of people, but for a brief few moments, I was literally panicking about my ever-dwindling youth and how I royally fucked up by not being into the things I was never really into anyways. I should have been more interested in this scene when I was at my most young and alluring!!! Could I make up for lost time and start clubbing every weekend? No, it just wouldn’t be the same. Did I truly miss out? Like I said, we had our club nights…birthday bashes, bachelorette parties, Thanksgiving Eve’s (whatever that means…) can I just accept that while they were fewer and more far between, they were great times? But was that enough times? Did I wear enough slutty dresses before age 30, you know, before people start to talk…”she’s HOW OLD and wearing WHAT????”…I figure I got a few more years on the slutty dresses and then that’s IT, you know? And that makes me sad. Sure, I have a great life but now I’m really starting to understand the people who told me “wait till you get to be my age…” While I’m definitely not old and I firmly believe in the saying you are only as old as you feel, I still have the acute awareness that I am no longer the young 21 year old girl. I am now a 31 year old woman who, to be quite honest, feels a little uncomfortable and unclear about what that means. I guess we make our own path, their is no clear cut formula for what you should be doing at any given age, but what do the masses think a 31 year old woman should do and behave like? Well I gave this all some hearty thought and came up with a solution. I am childfree, still wear the same jeans size as I did in high school and I like to dance. So it’s settled then, I’ll continue to “club” for the few acceptable remaining years I have left, I might even wear a slutty dress or a crop top and I won’t let these twenty something poptarts make me feel bad. I’ll go when the opportunity presents itself. And I will not obsess about missing out. But do check me out of the club after age forty if you see me there, okay?