A Gift From 39 to 40

I am not at all upset about turning 40. I still feel 18 to be honest—though a bit wiser, with more responsibilities, less concerned with fitting in, more concerned about being alone and of course debt.  But when I think of leaving my 30s behind I think of a decade of some of my greatest pain and greatest gain and in spite of it all I have no regrets.

I think in this part of the world, for an educated, White female (as that is really the only group I can speak for) in 2018 your thirties prompt a series of expectations. Some are gender based, while some come from family, and some come from within. It has taken many strike outs and some homeruns to provide this insight and I am in no way trying to impose my experiences on others. But I have learned in my 30s that if you focus on what you haven’t done or completed because of expectations, rather than having a plan for what you need to do to live each day the best you can, life may prove to be very disappointing. Aside from the obstacles anxiety and depression have posited in my life, I have always had at least one person who did not give up on me. These are the blessings you count to keep going. The joy of finding out I would be an aunt assuaged the pain of not having children of my own. And of course being a teacher and knowing there is someone counting on me to show up gives me the strength to plant my feet on the ground and 98% of the time give them my best.

So in these last hours of my thirties I am truly looking forward to 40 so I can prove stronger and wiser, be loved even more by those who have managed to find the Suzy still inside, gifted as much laughter as my belly can take on days that try to break me down and hopefully find the courage to look in the mirror and appreciate what I have accomplished in 40 years and see potential for at least 40 more.