As I navigate my 40s, I find myself grappling with a widely held belief: that by this age, I should have found a sense of contentment and inner peace. While I certainly care less about some of the trivial worries that consumed me in my 20s, I can’t claim to be completely at ease or fulfilled. Instead, feelings of doubt and discontent often resurface.
A constant theme in my life is the nagging sense that I haven’t accomplished enough. Whether it’s preparing a healthy snack for my kids or crafting a work project, I constantly feel the urge to go above and beyond, even when simple is sufficient. For example, I might think, “Here’s an apple; I washed it,” and yet my inner dialogue chimes in with a series of “Yeah, but…” responses: “Yeah, but it isn’t organic,” or “Yeah, but I still haven’t bought cheese.”
I teach my children to appreciate what they have and remind them that their best is enough, yet I struggle to extend the same grace to myself. My expectations seem to shift constantly, as if I’m chasing an elusive standard that leaves me perpetually feeling as though I haven’t arrived.
This mindset extends to many areas of my life—fitness, fashion, and even body image. Meeting my step goal on my fitness tracker isn’t a triumph; it’s merely an opportunity for self-criticism. I push myself harder each day only to hear that nagging voice questioning my efforts. I buy clothes that I believe are flattering, but when I look in the mirror, I find fault in everything, wishing I could appear thinner or trendier. Ironically, I’m often the friend who reassures others, “Look at all you do. You are more than enough!” while I fail to apply the same kindness to myself.
Is it possible that I fear being enough? What am I ultimately striving for? My children don’t care whether their snacks are organic. I often picture a moment when I would smile at the camera like a character from a sitcom and exclaim, “Now, that’s a snack that makes me feel like a great mom!”
Instead of obsessively organizing every detail of my home, perhaps I could accept the imperfections, like the marks left by our Christmas tree or the stain on our picnic blanket from a fruit punch spill. What if I believed my spouse when he lovingly tells me, “I love this spot”?
I wish to wake up feeling content with my wardrobe and not dread the day before it even begins. I acknowledge that I may never completely stop overthinking or complicating matters, but I can strive for a better approach. It’s time to find peace in what I have accomplished rather than restlessly longing for what’s still unattained. For all the tasks I believe I’m falling short on, there’s actually a great deal that I am managing to do.
While I understand that self-doubt and frustration won’t vanish entirely, I can start by lowering the bar and releasing the expectation that I should be perfectly at peace with myself in my 40s. This feels like a solid starting point.
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In summary, the quest for peace and fulfillment in my 40s is ongoing. Acknowledging the pressure I put on myself is a crucial step towards embracing contentment and finding joy in the present moment.