I haven’t been sure whether to look forward to this birthday or freak out. Forty always seemed so far away. So … old.
Several girlfriends and I got together a few months back to celebrate that we were all turning 40 this year and we had a great time acting like youngsters. But I must admit I can’t party like I used to. OK, I pretty much can’t party at all.
The last decade has been rough on me. My chronic headaches, anxiety and various issues have worsened over the years. I’ve struggled a lot and have gotten pretty down on myself.
I’ve wanted to look at turning 40 as a new beginning. A new chapter. The decade where I take back my health and control over my self. Should I really put that much pressure on my 40s?
Some of my friends already in their 40s are telling me that they are awesome and I will love being in my 40s. I’ve been told they are great because you just don’t give a fuck anymore.
So maybe 40s should be called the “Don’t Give A Fuck 40s”. Trademark it. It’ll be a thing.
I actually really hope that’s true. I could handle letting go of all my baggage and caring less about things that just don’t matter. It would make my stress level so much lower.
So I will lift a glass and say goodbye to my thirties. They had their rough times but also brought the births of my son and daughter and a lot of good times and laughter too. And I will welcome my forties with a warm embrace and a whisper to take it easy on me and I’ll do my best to not give a fuck so much.