Deborah Knight: 'Turning 50 is one thing, but the idea of a huge celebration is exhausting'

How is it that milestone birthdays that once seemed so far off in the distance are suddenly here?

The thought of being middle-aged was something my 18-year-old self could never fathom, and yet here I am, looking down the barrel of 50. My birthday is in November, and I'm not going to rush out and buy a red Porsche.

I'm OK with the passing of time. I'm proud of what I've achieved with my family and career, and even though a niggly lower back is a reminder my body is starting to not be able to do what it used to, I'm healthy and happy to be getting older and hopefully wiser.

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What I'm not OK with is the intense pressure to celebrate as though it's the last big shindig I'll ever have.

Turning 50 is one thing, but do I really have to sail the rivers of Europe or cruise the ice flows of Antarctica to mark the milestone? Social media has a lot to answer for showing the achievements of others who've pulled together big birthday trips.

I'd love to catch up with family and friends, but even organising a party at home feels like a superhuman effort that will age me another 10 years rather than celebrate the past 50. My middle-aged life has a lot on its plate already, so the thought of adding a major party or getaway to the equation feels more exhausting than celebratory.

No one liked the isolation of COVID, but I quite enjoyed being forced to pare back parts of a jam-packed life. Not taxiing the kids to countless after school and weekend activities. Not travelling beyond State borders. Not attending dinners or functions or fundraisers.

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Things became a lot simpler and the pressure to mark milestone birthdays was also gone. But with life now getting back to normal, the pressure's not only back – it's more intense. We're now meant to make up for two years of no parties, so this one better be big!

Can't we just have a cake and sing 'Happy Birthday'?

I must admit, I am starting to take great pleasure in things I once only imagined a 50-year-old would enjoy. I bought a high-pressure cleaner three weeks ago and there is a hypnotic joy in blasting a concrete path to its original mould-free state. I washed and vacuumed the car by hand last weekend, and gee it came up a treat.

Boring? Perhaps. Do I need to get out more? Only if you organise the where's and when's.

Notching up five decades around the sun is definitely an achievement worth celebrating. But so is a simpler life, which is something I think we can all embrace, whatever our age.