People expect women to be neurotic about age, and until recently, I was proud to be an exception. So what it is about turning 29 that's turned me into a number-obsessed freak?
'Well, duh', you might well think: 'you're about to hit one with a zero at the end of it, and this time it's nothing to look forward to. From now on, the only chances you'll get to be described as 'young' are if you become Prime Minister or have a fatal accident. So why not accept that the opening credits have well and truly faded, your twenties are trailing into the distance, and every birthday from now on is just another step closer to the 'big box'? You're not an immortal being, sweetheart - you're human.'
A sobering thought. But an irrelevant one, because I know I've faced these demons long ago; fears about mortality are a much bigger deal in childhood, and by the time one reaches adulthood, the idea of living forever seems distinctly less desirable. Imagine having to do the same job for all eternity! No, the issue is not being human - it's being female.
I can almost hear the groans from here, and my own would once have been one of the louder ones. But I know it to be true just from observing my own generation that men and women approach age milestones very differently. Cosmetics companies have known this for years, but I think it goes a lot deeper than looks and attraction. The pressure for us to grow up and 'settle' is a lot stronger than it is for the lads in our lives, and it seems to me that for most women, the only options are to conform or rebel, neither of which may appeal.
Do you really want to be the last one out clubbing while your friends mutter into their cocoa that you should just grow up? Men, meanwhile, can get away with hanging on to old habits (the fun ones, anyway) much later into life, and seem to face ageing with an indifference I'd love to cultivate. I don't know if it's fertility, social conditioning, vanity, oppression or a mixture of all these things and more that make ageing such an issue for us, but it's something we all face as women, and that's why I've chosen to start this column.
I want to explore the age-related issues faced by women of all generations, and because I hope it'll be a positive experience for all concerned, you won't find any 'miraculous' anti-aging tips in here. Neither will there be any bias towards younger or older readers, because I know this issue affects both in equal measure. But what you will find is discussion on what is expected of us at different stages of our lives, how our own expectations may differ, and where these ideas come from. We'll also celebrate the positive aspects of getting older that are specific to women, and talk about what we miss least about being younger.
Many of the questions I'll be addressing are the silly day-to-day ones that underpin our lives: Was there an age when you suddenly stopped wearing short skirts? Do you find yourself wondering if you should be trading in Topshop for Dorothy Perkins? But also, the more lifechanging: do you feel a failure if your career didn't take off when your best friend's did? Were you a die-hard childfree type whose biological clock suddenly kicked in at a certain age?
Perhaps you're the exception to these stereotypes: the older woman who jacked in her job to go travelling, the guy who obsesses over wrinkles or the girl who can't wait to grow old and settle down? You might even be the lucky sod who genuinely doesn't give a toss about the numbers on your birth certificate, and already thinks me a slave to social conditioning. Either way, your views are highly relevant - and I can't wait to hear them!
Abi Silvester is 29. She's still renting a shared flat, doesn't drive and is unmarried
