It happened. When I wasn’t looking. Somehow I got old. Okay, not really old. But just not young. I am no longer 20. In fact, I am now double that. Three months ago I woke up to being 40. Forty! In my teens and twenties, I thought 40 sounded so old and grown-up. Like I should wear dresses that fall just below my knee and blazers with shoulder pads, and that I should wear my hair in a short but perfectly styled bob. I now know that I was wrong about A LOT of things in my early 20s.
Before my birthday, I had thought maybe I should do a list – ’40 things to do before I turn 40′. Or perhaps offer contemplation in the form of ’40 things I’ve learned now that I’m 40′. I have considered what it means to be 40, and I’ve only come up with one answer. Being 40 means accepting the person I am and accepting my life the way it is.
I had always planned to be a career gal. Maybe getting married at the age of 40. I had not envisaged this life – being a Stay-At-Home-Mum with two children, while my husband works full-time. It is a different kind of life. But I am happy. I somehow managed to find the love of my life at the age of 25 and I love him even more now (barf, I know). We have two healthy, happy children who bring us an enormous amount of happiness (and sometimes an enormous amount of frustration – tantrums are not cool, so get over it Moozles and Dubz). And blogging has given me a creative outlet, and the opportunity to make some amazing friends.
I am not thin. I am not rich. I am not the cool girl that everyone wants to be friends with. But after many years of changing, figuring out who I was, then accepting myself, I became the person who I am today. Actually, I have been like this since I was about 34. But hey, why mess with a good thing?!