Ever write a list of things you wanted to do before hitting the bucket?
Yeah, me too. Except instead of “bucket,” I hit something more familiar: a quarter-life panic spiral with Wi-Fi. It wasn’t dramatic or cinematic. Just a quiet moment where I realized I didn’t want to wake up one day at 45, wondering why I never tried learning how to belly dance or why I still hadn’t seen Mayon Volcano up close.
So instead of wallowing in existential dread, I turned the countdown to 30 into a game: a personal challenge to do 30 things before turning 30. Not to prove anything to anyone. Just to make my life feel a little more mine.
Why make a bucket list before 30?
Because you don’t want to look back one day and say, “I wish I tried that when I still had knees that could bend.”
As of this post, I’ve already done:
- wakeboarding (read: faceplanting with style)
- watch a Broadway show
- belly dancing class
Next up? Surf camp in Baler. A half-marathon. A road trip to see the iconic Mayon Volcano in all her symmetrical glory.
This project has changed me. I’ve realized I’m more courageous (and curious) than I thought. Turns out, the biggest adventure is not the list itself, but becoming the kind of person who makes space for things like this.
The point isn’t to “achieve” something. It’s to remember that you’re alive.
I’ve met so many people who said they were scared to try things by themselves. And then life just… kept going. And suddenly, they were older, and a little resentful, and full of “I wish I had…”
I didn’t want that for me.
So even if I looked awkward, even if I had to go alone, even if I tripped up (literally or figuratively), I decided to try anyway.
30 Before 30 Bucket List
You do owe it to yourself to live a little louder. This list isn’t about bragging rights. It’s about trying, failing, laughing, and collecting the kinds of stories that don’t need a filter to be worth sharing.
1. Attend a cocktail mixology workshop
I figured if I was going to have a signature drink, I should at least learn how to make it. What started as a casual interest turned into me memorizing the perfect ratio for a whiskey sour. And now, every gathering, someone hands me the shaker like I’m a certified bartender. I’m not. But I’ll take the ego boost.
2. Take a belly dancing class
This was about finding rhythm in my own skin. The first class, I laughed nervously and stared at myself in the mirror like a confused jellyfish. By the next session, I was hitting hip circles with pride. I didn’t become a performer, but I did learn to move with a little more joy (and core strength).
3. Watch a Broadway show
This one felt like a pilgrimage. I saw my first show on Broadway with the kind of awe people reserve for cathedrals. I was two lines into the overture and already crying. There’s something about seeing art at that scale, with that much talent, that makes you believe in possibility again.
4. Get a piercing
I didn’t want a midlife crisis later on and wonder what it would’ve been like to just go for it. It was a small stud, nothing wild, but it felt like reclaiming a younger version of me who always thought it looked cool but never had the guts (or the parental permission).
5. Invest in stocks/mutual funds
I used to think investing was just for people with financial advisors and Bloomberg subscriptions. Then I realized I could start small (like really small) and that even the act of trying taught me more than any savings account ever could. There’s a kind of empowerment in watching your money work, even in tiny amounts.
6. Try wakeboarding
I signed up thinking it would be like riding a banana boat, fun, splashy, and harmless. But when the boat sped off and yanked me face-first into the water, I realized I had underestimated it. Still, I got up (eventually), found a bit of balance, and caught a breeze that made me feel like I was flying – for 5 seconds. One of the more freeing, humbling things I’ve done, bruises included.
7. Learn how to play an instrument
I picked the guitar, thinking I’d be strumming romantic songs by the beach. In reality, I learned one painfully slow Ed Sheeran chorus and got callouses on my fingertips. But I loved the process. It reminded me how fun it is to be a beginner again, awkward fingers and all.
8. Jump into the open sea without a vest
Freedom feels like saltwater in your eyes. Trusting my body to float, trusting the water to hold me, trusting myself to let go. I panicked a little at first, but then something shifted. I floated, stared at the sky, and felt freer than I had in years.
9. Try cross-stitching
I wanted something analog, something quiet. And cross-stitching, for all its granny-core branding, turned out to be deeply meditative. I stitched a little plant pattern and framed it proudly. No one ever believes I made it, which only makes it more satisfying.
10. Win a solo competition
It was a pub quiz, and I joined without backup. I didn’t expect to win — I just wanted to prove to myself that I could show up alone and not shrink. I ended up winning a tote bag and a cocktail voucher, but more than that, I walked out feeling ten feet taller.
11. Hike a high peak
I used to think hiking was just walking but harder. Until I found myself sweating halfway up a trail, bargaining with the universe to flatten the mountain. But when I reached the summit – sore, breathless, slightly sunburnt – the view humbled me into silence. There’s something about seeing how far you’ve come, both literally and metaphorically, that sticks with you.
12. Learn how to drive a car
I procrastinated this one like a teenager avoiding chores. But I got tired of being a glorified passenger. My first lesson? I drove like I was playing Mario Kart. But soon, the fear turned into focus. Learning to drive was less about the car and more about realizing I had the power to take myself wherever I wanted, no metaphors needed.
13. Play Monopoly
Yes, this was a serious item on my list. I had never played it growing up, and I felt like I missed a cultural rite of passage. So one rainy afternoon with my cousins, we sat down, cracked open a dusty old board, and three hours later, we were still locked in capitalist warfare. It ended in laughter, a tiny argument, and a newfound respect for people who can handle pretend-real estate drama without flipping the board.
14. Learn to surf
The plan is to go to Baler and sign up for a 5-day surf camp even though I can barely balance on a curb. Surfing will definitely test my patience, timing, and how to fall without quitting.
15. Go on a road trip to Bicol
I am imagining twelve hours on the road, Spotify on shuffle, and gas station snacks as currency. I plan to go with friends who sing just as off-key as me, who won’t mind stopping at sketchy diners, and would enjoy watching landscapes change mile by mile. Maybe it’s not just the place that will stick with you, but also the ridiculous, heartwarming stuff along the way.
16. Volunteer at a local food bank
This wasn’t a photo-op experience or a checkbox for “being a good person.” It was grounding. Packing goods, handing out meals, trying to make small talk with regular volunteers in their local language, it reminded me of how much dignity and care goes into showing up for others. It’s something I want to keep doing, even after the list is complete.
17. Learn a foreign language
I picked Spanish because I wanted to travel more and order tapas without butchering the pronunciation. I use Duolingo. I still make mistakes (I once asked someone if they wanted to eat my grandmother), but I love the brain stretch, and how language connects people.
18. Dye my hair
This was less of a hair decision and more of a life moment. I went for a soft reddish tint, the kind that only shows up in sunlight. It felt like harmless rebellion like telling the world, “I’m not done experimenting yet.” Plus, it’s just hair. It grows back. What doesn’t grow back is the chance to play.
19. Sing karaoke
And not just as backup vocals, either. I stood up, mic in hand, and belted out a slightly off-key version of “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” I was nervous, but the thing is, no one cared. We were all just there to let loose and sound terrible together. That’s what makes karaoke magic.
20. Go to the movies alone
This might sound minor, but it felt major. Sitting in a theater by myself, no commentary, no sharing popcorn, just me and the screen. At first, I felt self-conscious. Then I realized how freeing it was. It was one of the most peaceful, luxurious solo dates I’ve ever had.
21. Buy myself flowers
Just because it was Tuesday and I passed by a bouquet that looked too happy to leave behind. I put them in a vase at home and smiled every time I saw them. We don’t need an excuse to give ourselves beautiful things.
22. Own a pet
This one came with responsibilities and unexpected joy. I adopted a cat who acts like a CEO: demanding, aloof, but secretly affectionate when no one’s looking. Having a pet made my home feel less quiet, and my heart feel a little fuller. Also, I now talk to animals like they understand me. No regrets.
23. Sleep in a tent
I never fancied myself the camping type. But one weekend, under a canopy of stars and mosquito nets, I understood the appeal. Nature doesn’t care about your deadlines. It was cold, a little uncomfortable, but also, surreal. Sometimes you need to disconnect from everything to remember how much you don’t need.
24. Buy something from a thrift store
I walked in expecting dusty racks and came out with a vintage jacket that made me feel like a 90s movie character. Thrifting isn’t just shopping. It’s treasure hunting. It taught me to be patient, to spot potential, and to value things with history.
25. Meet an ultimate role model in person
It happened unexpectedly, my role model and idol randomly came at my place of work. And suddenly, I was conversing and walking briefly together with someone I had admired for years. I kept it cool (externally), but inside I was screaming. Meeting your heroes is risky, but when they turn out to be kind and real? It’s unforgettable.
26. Visit a prestigious art event
I wandered the galleries of Art Basel like a wide-eyed outsider. Some pieces made sense. Others looked like someone accidentally dropped spaghetti. But I felt alive. Being around bold ideas, strange beauty, and conversations you’d never hear elsewhere opened something in me. I left inspired and a little more curious.
27. Run a food business during summer
It was small-scale, pop-up with my brother, selling hotdog sandwiches and cold brew. But the hustle was real. Waking up early, setting up the booth, smiling through the heat. It made me appreciate local entrepreneurs ten times more. I didn’t make millions, but I made memories (and killer coleslaw).
28. Dine at a 2- or 3-Michelin-starred restaurant
Yes, it was expensive. No, I didn’t regret it. The whole thing felt like a movie; from the wine pairings to the edible flowers. I dressed up, sat up straighter, and let the food take center stage. It was an unforgettable experience, and a reminder that indulgence, when earned, can feel divine.
29. Learn and play a solo sport
I chose tennis, thinking it would be casual. It wasn’t. I was panting by the third rally. But I loved how the game forces you to focus, to adjust, to keep going even if you miss. It’s both physical and mental. And hitting a clean shot? Pure dopamine.
30. Date a foreigner
This was less of a checklist item and more of an openness to connection. Different backgrounds, cultures, and conversations. We didn’t last forever, but I learned so much; about communication, compromise, and how to laugh through misunderstandings. Love (or at least, dating) can be one hell of a learning curve.
Is this kind of bucket list realistic?
Short answer: Yes.
Longer answer: It depends less on your budget and more on your willingness to be resourceful, creative, and a little shameless.
A lot of people think bucket lists are only for the rich or the retired. But most of the best moments on my list didn’t require a passport or a platinum card. Just a little nerve, and a little planning.
In fact, here are a few ways to make it work without breaking the bank:
How to tick off your bucket list without going broke
Many of the fun things in my bucket list didn’t come for free. But then, you don’t need to go broke chasing joy either. There’s a way to do it all that doesn’t involve maxing out your credit card or booking business class flights.
Here’s how I made it work:
Tip #1. Plan ahead like your fun depends on it
I only got serious about my list around 27. But that gave me time to save and space out activities. If you plan one item per quarter, you’ve got time to save, research, and enjoy without stress.
Tip #2. Do activities in groups when it makes sense
Some memories hit better when shared, like that Bicol road trip where someone has to hold the takeout and pass food around. Invite friends. Join a Facebook group. Even better? Find someone with a car.
Tip #3. Borrow instead of buy
Need hiking gear? A guitar? A board game? Ask around. People are often more generous than you think, especially if you tell them it’s for your bucket list. You can return the favor later (or at least return the item in one piece).
Tip #4. Mix the big with the small
Not everything needs to be a grand gesture. Buying flowers, singing karaoke, or dyeing your hair takes an afternoon and costs less than a dinner out. These “small” moments often end up meaning the most.
The whole point of all this
You’re not just waiting for life to happen. You’re happening to life.
Having a 30 before 30 list is your way of telling the universe, “I’m showing up.”
It’s about agency. About presence. About taking yourself seriously and not seriously at the same time.
And whether you hit all 30 or only three, who cares?
What matters is that you stopped waiting for permission. You made the list. You showed up. You gave yourself the kind of memories you don’t outgrow.
