Two decades ago, my mother sent a seemingly forgettable birthday card to a friend.

“Happy 29 birthday!” she wrote inside. I asked her what she meant, knowing that her friend was well into her 30s.

She explained what she saw as a fact of life – all women wished to be in their 20s forever, never crossing the threshold into “old” territory. It made sense – 29, the designated “final age,” was the year my mother had me.

I turned 29 years old on July 19, the oldest I will ever be if my mother’s throwaway remark on a birthday card 20 years ago is to be believed. Thus begins the countdown to my 30s, when I might finally accept that the jokes about me being “unc” are true. I’m the first year of Gen Z, the generation born between 1997 and 2012.

Gen Z is reportedly terrified of turning 30. The things that define adulthood – stable careers, home ownership, marriage and children – are no longer set milestones for 20-somethings. We're more likely than other generations to have a mental health diagnosis, which certainly adds to our feelings of despair and fear of the future. By 35, polling shows, Gen Z thinks you're over the hill.

Despite the fact that many older adults believe Gen Z is stuck in perpetual childhood, I can see that we’re getting older.

All of the boyfriends I’ve had to this point are married. The girl I celebrated my 13th........

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