A few weeks back, a friend reminisced about how iconic music journalist Tom Harris just celebrated his 70th birthday. Tom Harris—remember him from the world of music news? It felt unbelievable at first, but a quick search confirmed the truth: he officially entered his seventh decade on May 5. While I wish him all the best, this milestone is just another reminder that time waits for no one.
Recently, I found myself in a conversation with a young coworker in their early twenties, passionately encouraging them to embrace new experiences and truly enjoy this vibrant stage of their lives. I couldn’t help but reflect on how different my own life feels now. During a recent beach trip, my lovely 8-year-old daughter looked at me in my bikini and sweetly remarked, “Mom, you’d look so adorable if you were younger.”
It’s hard to ignore how often I’m addressed as “ma’am” these days, or how I find myself referencing pop culture from the ’80s, only to be met with blank stares. “You see, Cheers was a show about friends in a bar… Oh, never mind.”
In just a few months, I will officially say goodbye to my 30s, and the thought of turning 40 feels relentless. I often wonder: How did I get here? I don’t feel 40, but my life certainly mirrors that of a typical 40-year-old. I’ve been married for a decade, have two children, and a mortgage. I drive a family car and attend PTA meetings. I wear glasses at night, regularly see a dermatologist (a consequence of growing up in the sun-soaked ’80s), and find myself contemplating retirement savings and whether Botox is a slippery slope leading to more drastic measures.
My apprehension about turning 40 isn’t rooted in vanity or unmet aspirations. In fact, if you had asked my 20-year-old self what my life would look like at 40, I would have envisioned this very scenario. Yet, the reality of 40—the Big 4-0—feels overwhelming, and I find myself resisting it.
I have a kindergartner who is learning about addition and subtraction in math. It struck me that my life so far has been about “adding to”—a partner, a career, children, a home, and friendships. These have been years of growth and creation. As I look ahead, the second half of my life will likely involve some loss and letting go. My children will grow more independent, my beloved parents will age, and friends may drift away. Piece by piece, the life I’ve built over four decades will change.
Though I’ve never been sentimental about possessions—Marie Kondo would surely approve of my decluttering habits—the thought of turning 40 has stirred a desire to hold on tightly to loved ones and freeze time, even if just for a moment. Yet, I know such a pause isn’t possible.
In moments like these, I often seek solace in the words of writers and poets. I turn to the wisdom of Mary Oliver, who reminds us:
“To live in this world
You must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.”
I understand that the next 40 years will require me to embrace letting go—and I admit, I resent that notion. But for now, I will focus on cherishing my loved ones and contributing to their lives as best as I can.
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Summary
As I approach my 40th birthday, I reflect on the changes in my life, the inevitability of aging, and the bittersweet nature of letting go. While I cherish the life I’ve built, I also recognize that the coming years will bring both gains and losses, and I aim to embrace each moment with love and gratitude.