I’ve been 40 for ~9 months now and while I still feel 28, it feels like a new and improved 28. 40 is a really scary age for women. It’s the official societal “she’s over” moment that’s supposed to make us panic and head directly to the plastic surgeon. It’s the “she looks good for her age” and the “well she’s 40 now” in whispers behind her back.
Thankfully, 40 for the women experiencing it is most often anything but the beginning of the end. 40 is the beginning of giving less fucks. Of never settling. Of restarting new careers. Of body and sexual confidence. Of prioritizing our needs.
I genuinely don’t feel 40 and yet I’m almost halfway through my time on this Earth — and that feels like a really serious age. Serious is a great way to describe what 40 has made me.
I’m serious about my time. I don’t say yes to everything. I truly consider if it’s something I want to do and if it isn’t, it’s a no.
I’m serious about my community. There are a small handful of people in this world that have the privilege of knowing me, spending time with me and that I’ll put the time and effort into. I have no interest in a larger circle.
I’m serious about my career goals. I don’t want a fancy title. I want to be paid my worth (I’m worth a lot). I want to be respected. I want to generally enjoy the people I do the work with.
I’m serious about enjoying the little things. I’m annoyingly grateful for life. I’ve been through a lot, so the little things are really important to me. Really good coffee. A gorgeous sunset. It’s all really special.
I’m serious about celebrating. Everything is a big deal. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Random Tuesday afternoons. I want to celebrate it all.
I’m serious about learning. And my favorite way to do that is to travel. I want to see everywhere and meet every culture and eat every food.
I’m serious about my future. I don’t plan to work until I die. My husband and I plan to move abroad sooner rather than later. We work towards that goal. We also take our health seriously. We know how precious and lucky we are to even be looking at a future.
40 is a scary age. Life is oh so short. But 40 is also the most magical time if you choose to see it that way. So here I am, ~9 months into 40 and I haven’t shriveled up and died. I’m the happiest, most confident version of myself and I’m living dreams I never thought possible. Every decade is such a privilege. Who knows, maybe my 40’s will be my favorite yet.