I’m officially the age I dreaded as a teenager. 40! The somewhat suspect and pallidly limp “middle age” that my younger self felt was light years away. Media, and society, in the 1990’s would tell you that being 40 as a woman was pretty much just as good as being dead. Maybe worse…and more pathetic. I believed them. When I thought about turning 40 back then, it gave me instant anxiety about wanting…no, NEEDING my entire life to have gone well and gone according to my plans by that milestone. And if it didn’t…would I be ready to just roll over and die? If not die…then slowly waste away into the shadows until I became an old woman, and felt shriveled, and lonely, and unimportant.

When I look back on this, I’d like to both slap that brainwashed brat across her face AND give her a massive hug. The truth is that turning 40 today feels like the beginning of the big, beautiful life I’ve always dreamed of. As I got older, I started to suspect that what society told me about women in their 40’s was dead wrong. Paying attention, I watched women become more themselves as they got closer to 40. They became more powerful, they grew into their features and had more confidence. They stepped onto the mountaintop. They cut their hair short or grew it into a wild mane. They had better style, and more opinions…and they weren’t afraid of any of it.

When I left my 20’s, I breathed a massive sigh of relief. I had just become a Mother, and I was looking forward to exploring the next decade of my life where I felt increasingly more empowered, and more curious– and where I understood what I wanted much better. And, while all of these things were true, my 30’s were the most challenging times of my life. I became a Mother to 3 children, I experienced devastating loss and terrifying trauma. I did deep and exhausting work on myself and came face to face with demons and ghosts from my past. I moved house many times. I mourned the family I thought I was going to have. I got divorced. I survived a global pandemic. I jumped into love again and navigated coparenting and building a life with somebody anew. My career went through a wild flop era, and I navigated the waters of reexamining what I actually wanted my work to be. I lost friends and gained others. I battened down the hatches and freed my spirit at the same time. I had a couple of health scares that made me consider my own mortality…and my personal legacy. I had parenting wins and losses. I lost and gained weight…I lost and gained hair. I lost and gained confidence, sanity, and patience. I put my heart into people, experiences, and plans that disappointed and broke me. I ended up exactly where I was supposed to.

As I stand here now, as a 40-year-old woman, I thank my lucky stars that the waves of life brought me through that journey, and left me right here. I feel more powerful than I ever have. I’m happier, more energized, and more grounded than I ever remember being. I like myself more than I ever have. I forgive myself more, too. The things and people that I’ve lost don’t sting so much anymore. I’ve blessed and released. I want to feel everything: even the hard parts. I realize now that it’s all fed me in more ways than I knew. How lucky I am that I’ve had the chance to experience it all, and come out of it alive and well.

In many ways, I feel younger than I did 20 years ago. I think it’s because I’ve unburdened myself a great deal. Letting go doesn’t come naturally to me, it never has. I will hold onto emotion, to people, to places, FAR longer than I should. Far longer than is good for anybody, at times. I don’t like losing. I don’t like feeling out of control. My heart opens easily, and breaks even easier. I’m not great with forgiveness. But these last decades have taught me that it’s ok to release those experiences and give back the resentments. Forgiving feels fantastic. Letting people think, do, and feel their own things also feels fantastic. I’m happy in my little love bubble with the people I trust and care about.

It turns out that aging as a woman IS the secret sauce. It’s what I had been waiting for this whole time: the blossoming. The opening. The experiences that cracked me in half and delivered me, finally, into my full self. I never, ever, thought I would get here. And it’s only 40!!! How lucky that I get to live this beautiful life now, and be awake enough to really appreciate it. In this next decade, I look forward to pushing myself out of my boxes, doing more that scares me, and celebrating the moments big and small. I always forgot to celebrate. I want to be the best version of myself so that my kids, husband, family, and friends can know me completely and feel my support and love. I want to listen to myself better and thank myself more often. I want to laugh my fucking ass off. I want to eat everything delicious. I want to move my body and feel great in my own skin. I want to keep trusting the universe that whatever is meant for me will find me no matter what.

If you’re still reading this insanely emo birthday post, I want to thank you for being here. Thank you for being a part of all of this, and helping me create this strange and wonderful life for myself. I can’t wait to bring you along on this next chapter!

If you’re over 40, please share something you’ve experienced hitting this birthday milestone!

Photographs by Julia Dags | Copyright © 2025 Happily Eva After, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

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