40 Day Dream
I do not identify as forty-three years old.
I will no longer be counting my age in years, only decades. I’ve decided to be forty until I am fifty, then fifty till sixty and so forth.
Such as a baby’s age should not be counted in months after, let’s say, eighteen months. Your kid is two, then three, and so on. None of this “He’s thirty-five months” stop it, just stop it.
I do not identify as forty-three years old. I am forty. Capeesh.
Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I want to tell you forty things I absolutely LOVE about being forty.
Spending time with my best friends. A cheeky dive-bar night out with my girlfriends is even more fun after forty.
The way I look; I have relaxed into myself. Softened around the edges.
Not being motivated by getting men to love me. Ok, fine maybe still a little bit, but it’s easier to convince them to fall in love me now and I love that.
The things that would have deeply embarrassed me (drunk texting an ex, running into someone without makeup on, oversharing etc.) roll off my back. “They probably liked it!” I tell myself and keep it moving.
My desire to be a good person is stronger than my desire to be right. Which is saying something because I fucking love being right.
Keeping my mouth shut. This one may be hard to believe, but as I get older I am learning which things don’t need to be said.
Talking about myself less (Substack doesn’t count). I am genuinely more interested in other people than I’ve ever been.
Being honest, mostly with myself, even when I really, really want to lie.
Less stuff is more. I want less, need less, and consume less. Quality over quantity.
No longer waiting for the perfect person to complete my life.
Saying no to things I don’t want to do.
Saying yes to things I want to do, even when they scare the bejesus out of me.
Botox.
Eating healthier/better quality food.
Never saying no to a fries, Caesar salad, Sauvignon blanc situation.
Letting go of a scarcity mindset. Money isn’t a finite resource.
That I can date men from 25-65yrs old. Son/Daddy/GrandPapi all appropriate options. I won’t, but I could…ya know.
Understanding that I can love someone and still not want to be in a relationship with them.
Having platonic guy friends.
Being ok asking for help (I’m learning this one as we speak).
No longer explaining myself, my choices, my relationships, or my work.
Figuring out that nobody has it figured out, like at all.
Feeling worthy is no longer decided by someone else. A man, the media, a number on the scale.
My anxiety has shifted into something much more manageable.
Rest, I allow myself many guilt-free naps.
Not feeling the need to impress anyone, ever again.
Working out feels like a privilege, not a chore.
My inner critic has mellowed the fuck out.
My hair is long, like really long.
When I look in the mirror it’s less “Ugh” and more “Hi Cutie!”
I let myself feel really happy and I notice it now.
Having a glass of wine and listening to music while I cook dinner is heaven on earth.
Being single.
Chin hairs are acceptable little friends that remind you, you’re not alone.
Raising a teenager. What I thought would be the hardest part of parenting is so much better than I could have ever imagined.
Not wasting any time on people who aren’t worth my time. Delete, delete, block.
Tretinoin.
Still feeling seventeen.
Trusting my intuition.
The freedom to write whatever I want, whenever I want. Thanks to you, my lovely readers.
i literally spit my tea out at "34. Chin hairs are acceptable little friends that remind you, you’re not alone." That was such a good one. (and agree with months and little kids. there must be a cutoff.)
38 is how I feel at 38.