The most exciting part of my life is over.

I'm 36 and single. I have a decent job in a field I like. A lot of hobbies. I own a home. Good health. But I finally understand that something I've known for a while is true: the most exciting part of my life is behind me.<br><br>I've always been told that your 20s are the best time of your life. That this is the period in your life where the most exciting things happen: meeting your soulmate, having your first kid, graduating from college, landing your first job, becoming financially independent, finding your passion, etc. I believed this, or at least knew that it was true for most people. But I didn't really understand it until recently. Why is it that most single people stop going to bars or clubs when they hit 30 or so? Why do people often stop or dramatically slow down their hobby development when they hit their 30s? Why is this? We are told that our 30s are when we really come into our own and that life really starts to get underway in earnest. But this isn't true. It's actually the opposite.<br><br>For me at least, I've felt a creeping sense of staleness for a while now. I have more money than I used to. I have more possessions. I have more friends, more connections. But I have less excitement in my life. I have less wonder. I feel like I am getting older. My reflexes are slower. My skin is getting looser. My metabolism is slowing down. My thoughts are slower and more plodding. I am more jaded. I feel older. And I know deep down that I will never be young again. That the most exciting parts of my life are behind me, and that its all just a slow march towards death from here, with some successes and happiness along the way, but not like it was when I was young.<br><br>When I was young, I didn't know how to do anything or where I was going. I was a blank slate, fresh out of the mold. I was new. For me, my teenage years were when I first learned to drive. When I first had sex. When I first went away to college. When I first got my first real job. When I first learned how to be an adult. My early 20s were when I first learned to navigate the adult world. How to do my taxes and pay my own bills. How to cook, how to clean, how to be on my own. How to (kind of) do my own taxes and pay my own bills. How to (badly) cook. How to (minimally) clean. And yes, even how to have sex (kind of). When I found out what really turned me on. What I liked. What I loved.<br><br>Those were the times when anything was possible. When I was allowed to (and even expected) to make mistakes. To be ignorant of how things worked. To be inexperienced. But also excited. Excited to learn. To take on new challenges. To go out drinking on the weekends. To stay up late and sleep in later. To not worry about money. And more importantly, to not know how the world worked. To have a sense of wonder. And most importantly, to have the ability to discover.<br><br>We are taught that with age comes wisdom. And wisdom is a big part of happiness. But I disagree. With age comes wisdom but also jadedness. With age comes experience, but I've found that the happiness that experience brings is vastly outweighed by the happiness that comes from discovery. I'd rather be a wide-eyed college freshman who is excited to learn and take in as much as I can, even if I don't have much money or know how things work, than a financially comfortable, mature adult who has been there, done that, and has lost interest.<br><br>I've discovered the world. I have money. I have friends. I have possessions. I have wisdom and experience. I have the world at my fingertips. I can google (or duckduckgo) anything I want to know at any time. I can order food on my phone. I can pay for things electronically. The world is mine to explore, and yet, it feels empty. I know too much about it. I can see into every corner. There is nothing left for me to discover.