I’m now in my thirties and the most interesting changes aren’t the things I started doing. That’s something I don’t care about anymore.
Not in any dramatic way. I didn’t sit down and make a list. Things slowly spin out of control, like some of the songs you once loved are no longer in your rotation. You didn’t decide to end it with them. One day you notice they are gone.
Here are six of them.
stay right in small arguments
When I was young, I had a strong need to be right. Especially in conversations with my brothers, old friends, anyone close enough. I’ll dig deeper. I’ll find the angle. I want the other person to accept my point of view, preferably while also acknowledging that I was right all along.
I notice these days that this urge comes and then disappears.
That’s not to say I’ve become wiser in this regard. I’ve seen a lot of these arguments end the same way. Either they both let it go silently, or someone says something they regret. Either way, the relationship got worse, and the truth wasn’t really the issue. I’m usually just defending that I need the correct version.
When I let it go, I lost nothing. Conversation becomes easier. My wife and I argue less.
Am I in sync with my peers?
A few years ago, I saw people my age buying houses, selling businesses, running marathons, and writing books, and I now consider it a mild panic. It’s like I’m behind in a race I didn’t sign up for.
I don’t really feel that way anymore.
Some of that was running our business with my brother long enough that seeing other people’s timelines had nothing to do with my relationship. Some of that is having a young daughter who doesn’t care about any of that. Some are just older. You see enough people hit a milestone that they think will change everything, and then a month later fall back into the same daily emotions and the whole framework starts to feel thin.
There is no rhythm, just what you actually do today.
Get an informed take on everything in the news
Journalism is the one thing I’m most proud of giving up.
For much of my 20s and early 30s, I felt a responsibility to know everything. This week’s debates on technology, markets, politics, and culture. I would read the headlines in the morning, take a stance, and briefly orient myself to the world.
I’ve stopped caring about much of it, not because the news isn’t important, but because I’ve noticed that these opinions rarely change anything I actually do. I would get angry about something I had no influence over, stay upset all afternoon, and not think about it again for a year. It’s just a weight I willingly bear.
I’m still studying. I just feel like I no longer owe the world its opinion on everything. Most of the time, I’d rather have a clear understanding of one thing than a half-formed opinion about twenty things.
looks very effective
For a long time, I confused being busy with being useful. I have a full calendar, a long to-do list, and a small sense of virtue in the things I accomplish.
I tend to actually accomplish less in half an hour than I do now.
What I no longer care about is the appearance of the job. its performance. You need to look like a person who is always online. When I’m with my daughter, I’m with my daughter. When I work, I work quietly for long periods of time and then stop. When I go for my morning run along the river, I leave my phone at home.
It’s a much quieter life than the life I lived in my early thirties. It also produces more.
I maintain friendships out of guilt
This takes longer to admit.
Some are people I’ve known for years and whom I once felt I should keep in touch with. Some are good people. There are people I share a lot of history with. Regardless, I started to relax when I noticed how little I was actually looking forward to the next catch-up.
Not in a cold way. I will still reply. I still see them if they’re in town. I no longer actively maintain friendships on a living basis.
It turns out that many friendships have a natural lifespan, and extending their lifespan is mostly a pretense. The friendships that I still invest real time in are the ones that make me feel more like myself afterwards. There are fewer of them than I ever thought I would need.
What do people who barely know me think of me?
This is what surprised me the most.
In my 20s, I was constantly concerned with what others thought of me. It’s people online, it’s people I’ve met in person, it’s people whose opinion of me doesn’t affect my life in any real way. I would replay little interactions in my head. When I say the wrong thing at dinner, I worry about what other people will think.
Now I basically don’t notice.
It’s not confidence, exactly. I think it’s just that I slowly figured out who I was responsible for. my wife. my daughter. my brothers. A small group of friends. I respect the work of several colleagues. The list is shorter than I once thought, and frankly, what the rest of the world thinks of me is something I have no way of accessing anyway.
None of this comes from decisions. I’m not old enough to choose what to let go of. They just got quieter themselves.
I expect there will be more of them in our 40s.
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