I'll soon be entering the realms of the thirty-something. Hard to believe, I know, with my youthful good looks, trim figure and childlike charm!

But it has got me thinking, à la Sex and the City's Carrie Bradshaw, is age really just a number?

Leaving my 20s is something that seems to have sneaked up on me without any warning.

Surely it was only yesterday I was leaving home, heading to university, starting my first job?

Time flies when you're having fun, so they say.

Of course it hasn't all been sweetness and light - there've been good times, there've been average times, there've been some bad times too.

But as comedian George Carlin once said: "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

And believe me I've got a fair few of those stacked up for posterity in my memory banks.

So the big 3-0. The scary milestone somewhere in my future is now popping its ugly head over the horizon.

Is this next decade another step on the slippery slope to middle-aged madness or just a landmark on my voyage of discovery?

To be honest I'm feeling remarkably calm about the impending anniversary of my birth (deep breath, deep breath).

Sex and the City made the image of the thirty-something woman sexy and sophisticated, successful and strong - something to aspire to, not be anxious about.

I might not have quite as glamorous a career as Carrie, or as expensive a wardrobe as Samantha, but I'd like to think I share a few of their characteristics.

I know it sounds a bit of a cliché, but after all the soul searching and spiritual questioning of my youth I think I'm finally starting to figure it all out.

Or at least be at peace with the knowledge that I'll never know all the answers.

After years battling with my weight, and struggling with issues about my appearance, I'm feeling good about myself.

It's a revelation that even Bridget Jones would be proud of - I like me "just the way I am".

Don't get me wrong - I'm certainly not perfect in any shape or form - in fact, far from it.

A bit of a nip here, a tuck there, wouldn't go amiss but to be honest that extra pound of flesh isn't the be all and end all.

I feel there are enough friends in my phone book to be confident I'm great company to be with.

Some say the blossoms of youth fade into the blemishes of time but I disagree.

I look forward to etching those laughter lines a little deeper and filing away more amazing memories to one day dust off and share with my grandchildren. Long gone is the materialistic, diffident girl of my younger years - welcome the confident, content woman who appreciates the fragility of life but wouldn't change it for the world.

So 21 again this year? Nope - I'm embracing my flirty 30s with open arms.

Someone once said: "The 30s are the best years of your life; you are neither too old to enjoy the best of youth, nor too young to enjoy the best of adulthood."

Sounds good to me.