In the first episode of Girls creator Lena Dunham’s new, hotly-anticipated Netflix series, Too Much, Jessica (played by Cosmo cover girl Megan Stalter) breaks into her now-ex boyfriend’s flat, discovers him in bed with his new girlfriend, and screams at him: “You need to sit down and write on a piece of paper that leaving me is the worst thing that anyone has ever done. You write that out, fucker. You write that out in blood, bastard.”

It’s a surreal and hilarious moment that kicks off a stellar — and star-studded! — romcom series that wonderfully and whimsically encapsulates the synchronous torture of heartbreak and intoxicating thrill of new beginnings. Dunham herself is also among the cast, in the role of Jessica’s older sister, Nora, and the storyline is loosely based on her own whirlwind love story with her now-husband Luis Felber, a musician and co-creator of the show, who she met after moving to London from New York after a break-up.

Aptly, then, in Too Much, Jessica moves to London from New York after her heartbreak, and almost immediately meets musician Felix (played by Will Sharpe), and the pair quickly and intensely fall in love. The relationship isn’t without its hurdles — cultural differences, complicated feelings about exes, family trauma, addiction, communication issues — which is a big part of what makes the show such captivating, entertaining, and relatable viewing. It’s also filled with tender moments, hot, authentic sex scenes, sharp humour, and Dunham’s trademark observational and satirisation skills.

Beyond the actual content of the show, as soon as the plot was announced, it hit home for a particular subset of people, i.e. those of us approaching or entering our 30s, and especially those who, like 30-something Jessica, experienced a break-up (or other major life change) at this juncture. Whether you call it your Saturn Return, a quarter-life crisis, or ‘the panic years’ (as author Nell Frizzell has dubbed it), this feeling of fear, urgency, and transformation as you approach 30 is universal. And the resulting urge to cut, run, burn it all to the ground and start again? From Too Much, to my social feeds, to my break-up-laden friendship circle, evidence of it abounds. So, what’s going on? And, if you do blow up your life around 30, what comes next?

Ready to blow

At 27, Rea (now 29) knew that she and her boyfriend, Marcus*, weren’t right for each other. It wasn’t that there was anything particularly wrong with their relationship. It was just… comfortable. “I think part of me thought this was as good as it was going to get,” she says. So, she continued planning their future: booking trips, arranging social events, agreeing to move in together. But three months into their new living situation, Marcus asked if she was happy — it was a moment that calcified two confronting realities she’d been suppressing. She wasn’t happy with him. She was, also, gay. “I never told him at the time that I suspected it,” reflects Rea. “I was still processing that possibility myself.”

The relationship ended amicably, but Rea wept for two weeks. “I was bereft,” she continues. “It was extremely confusing at the time, but on reflection, it was because I knew I was saying goodbye to my old life and self. The future seemed scary.”

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© 2025 Netflix, Inc.
Jessica (Megan Stalter) in Too Much

And yet, in many ways, it was less scary than the future she’d been heading for — a vision that began to plague Rea’s thoughts as she approached her 30s. “I felt trapped by the heterosexual cookie-cutter trajectory of meeting a man, settling down, saving for a mortgage and having children,” she says. “You get to the point where you’re like, ‘Is this how I want the next 20 years to be?’ I decided that I would rather be uncomfortable and true to myself.”

Other age milestones are renowned for causing existential crises, but entering your 30s feels momentous. You can still taste the freedom of your youth, but there’s the gnawing sense that you need to make decisions that will dictate the rest of your life. For women and people who can get pregnant — and want to become parents — the spectre of declining female fertility means this tends to be crunch time.

It’s worth noting that the stereotype that all women will get a maternal urge around this age is total BS. Also, that female fertility is individual and the ‘falls off a cliff after 35’ maxim is a massive oversimplification. Still, it heaps pressure on your love life. Do you want to have kids? When? Are you with the right person? It’s no wonder I think about it all the time, the biggest buzzkill on Charli XCX’s Brat, resonated so much with so many.

“You get to the point where you’re like, ‘Is this how I want the next 20 years to be?’”

Plenty of people who don’t want kids still feel the existential tug. So, I ask Dr Sophie Mort, clinical psychologist and author of (Un)stuck, what is it about approaching 30 that makes people rip it up and start again? “When people are shifting any decade, there’s a moment of reflection. But one thing that’s specific about the end of your 20s is you’ve had your first 10 years outside of being told what to do,” she explains. “People go, ‘Okay I’ve been an adult for 10 years. I thought I’d be at this point by now, but actually where am I and what do I really want?’”

While blowing up your life can look like moving cities, changing jobs or going travelling, this urge often manifests in our romantic relationships. It might be a realisation that the person you’re with isn’t right or their future dreams don’t align with yours; it could be a sexual awakening, like Rea’s; it might be a decision to experiment with alternative relationship styles.

You may even find, as I did, that as you approach your 30s, this feeling — and the friends who decide to act on it — creates a ripple effect in your friendship group. For us, it was a season of break-ups. Long-term couple after long-term couple fell, with friendship group fractures left in their wake. Seeing friends come out the other side of a break-up — sometimes feeling happier than they ever have before — can encourage others to take a plunge they may have been avoiding.

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© 2025 Netflix, Inc.
Sisters Jessica (Megan Stalter) and Nora (Lena Dunham) in Too Much

Time to go

This is exactly what happened to Ellen*, 30, who fled her life and boyfriend in Glasgow, packing her things and taking the dog one Saturday night (“very romcom”, she quips), driving down the M6 to start afresh in her Warwickshire hometown. “In hindsight, I realised his words had never once in our whole relationship matched his actions,” she tells Cosmopolitan. “I think the reason I held on with him as long as I did is because I was approaching 30, and the thought that the person I was with now was the one who I should be doing ‘grown up’ things with preoccupied me. But when close friends went through break-ups, the thought was planted that there was, in fact, life — and a good life — after ‘love’.”

It was a clarifying wake-up call for Ellen to raise her standards for what she expects from the next phase of her life — and choose what matters. “It’s hard to tell the difference between what you ‘should’ want and what you actually want,” she continues. “Maybe I do want all the things that I ‘should’ want — marriage, kids — but what I want more is to trust a partner and to feel cared for by them.”

When you consider the magnitude of the pressure that ‘your 30s’ represent for women, it’s not surprising that nearing the milestone feels like a high-stakes crossroad of quit vs commit. And while it may feel like these decisions are sudden as an outsider, Mort says it’s very rare that someone blows up their life on a whim. “There’s often been an inkling that something’s not right for a long time, and then it takes this milestone birthday to take that seriously.”

“I held on so long because I thought the person I was with at 30 should be the one I do ‘grown up’ things with”

Sometimes it’s not you that’s been doing this thinking. “I’d have said our relationship was good, with some hiccups,” says 29-year-old Phoebe* from London, who recently broke up with her boyfriend of 12 years. “I was shocked when he told me he wasn’t happy, it felt like it came completely out of the blue.”

The pair went back and forth for a while about what to do. Breaking up felt like a huge decision — a total rewriting of Phoebe’s whole future. And yet, as she began to think about it, she realised it was the right thing to do. “We’d been together for so long that I’d never really questioned it,” she says. “I had two months of my life imploding, which made me reassess the dynamic and whether I actually wanted this. I was able to picture my life without him — and it didn’t look as scary as I’d thought.”

It was her imminent 30th birthday, and considering all the ways life may change in the following years, that cinched it. “I thought about the fact that if we tried [to stay together], we might end up breaking up in two, five, or even 10 years,” Phoebe continues. “At this point, I have some single friends and most of my mates don’t have loads of responsibilities. It would be harder for them to get drunk and silly with me if they’re worrying about their children or dogs and important jobs.”

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Netflix
Felix (Will Sharpe) and Jessica (Megan Stalter) in Too Much

Moving forwards

So, how do you know whether you actually want to cut and run from your relationship, or if it’s just age-related panic? Allow time, advises Mort, for reflection. “How long have you been feeling like this? What’s been telling you that you need something different right now? Is this decision coming from a long-held concern or is it a knee-jerk reaction because you’re currently in crisis mode?”

She also suggests experimenting with your desired change before committing to it — whether this is about your relationship or other major life alterations. “Instead of leaving a job straight away, could you take a sabbatical? Instead of changing a relationship, could you try therapy? Could you date a woman for a while before you decide to self-identify or tell others about your sexuality? Can you explore all these things in a way that feels good, private and safe for you without the judgement of others?”

“Once we become uncomfortable, that’s when we start to grow”

If you decide to ‘blow up’ your life, prepare for doubt and grief over your old life and imagined future. “Loss is loss, even when it’s chosen,” Mort says. “Feeling anxious is normal. When you change your secure base, you need to give yourself grace.” Discomfort isn’t pleasant, but Mort urges you to sit with it for a while. “Let your identity be in flux,” she says. “Once we become uncomfortable, that’s when we start to grow.”

Rea, Ellen, and Phoebe all tell me that they’re happier now than they were before each of their relationships ended. Rea is living in Lisbon with her new girlfriend; Ellen is living in her hometown, enjoying the tranquillity of life without her ex; and Phoebe is embracing being single, trying out new things and allowing herself to take life less seriously.

“I’m excited to be 30,” says Rea. “I reject the fear that people start stressing over as their 20s end. I focus on the ‘older, wiser, hotter’ mantra. You can take the good from your 20s and enjoy life with experience and wisdom. I’m self-assured now, but I’m also open to experimentation — and fuck-ups.”

*Names have been changed

Lettermark
Brit Dawson
Sex & Relationships Editor
Brit Dawson is Cosmopolitan UK's Sex & Relationships Editor. Her work mostly delves into sexual subcultures, sex work, women's rights, and sex and relationships, exploring how each intersects with technology, politics, and culture. Formerly a staff writer at Dazed and MEL Magazine, she's written for British GQ, The Face, Slate, and more. She's also interested in drugs, youth and pop culture, and books — so all the good stuff. Find Brit on Instagram, X, and LinkedIn.