Year Forty and One

So, I've been forty-one for a couple of months now and I would've thought that I'd hate it. And don't get me wrong, I don't love the number, but now that I'm realizing how much of my response to that number comes from what men have told me (men who have decided that they're still sexually spry at the age of 80), I'm a little like "fuck you, whatever".

Basically, me at 41 is pretty unapologetic about who I am.

And that has honestly changed my entire life.

Sure, I'm still married and pretty much all the vital stats are the same but the growth I've had in the past year has been monumental.

Because of health issues, I've spent three-fourths of the past year living with both my new husband and my mom. At different points I've wanted to strangle them both (not really) and I have it on pretty good authority that the feeling is mutual.

But the things I've come to understand have been eye-opening. Things about myself, things about my loved ones, things about the world.

I'd feel, almost, like a whole new person if the woman I am now didn't feel so familiar in so very many ways.

I'll tell you one thing, I like her. I like her a lot.

She speaks her mind. And she's working on not caring about what other people think.

She puts actions to her words. And she tries to really accomplish the goals she's set for herself, not just play at it.

She finds the idea of the unknown more exciting now instead of totally scary. And she's pretty fucking psyched about what the future holds for her.

But enough of the third person.

There are pieces of my life that fit now in a way that they've never fit before. Some of that has to do with me and some of it just has to do with timing and the universe.

I guess in year forty and one I'm realizing that nothing comes before it's due. And some lessons just aren't ready for us to learn from them until the exact right moment in time.

And most importantly, we have to really stand behind what we say. We can't make exceptions about what we believe just because our feelings are hurt. And we have to try and use compassion whenever we can, especially with those we love. Because love, understanding and forgiveness are the greatest gifts we as humans have to give.

And life is truly better for everyone when these things are incorporated into our daily lives.

I'm expecting this next year to bring me more knowledge and growth than the last and I'm kind of hoping that it's like this for a while. I have a hunch it may be. This older and wiser duo they've been advertising is pretty rad. They should add badass to it, though. Cause I'm definitely more of a badass at age 41 than I ever have been before.

I think, maybe, the world just wasn't ready for this me yet.

It's My Birthday and I'll Whine If I Want To

I'm a totally reasonable person. I try not to get hung up on petty or trivial things. I take pride in the fact that I don't really care what celebrities are wearing or who anyone is sleeping with. The things that tend to really upset me have more to do with civil rights, health care, violence, poverty, shit like that. 

Now having said ALL of that, I'm turning 40 next week and I fucking hate it. I hate it and I don't want to and I am so totally going to approach this birthday kicking and screaming the whole way. 

Now I do realize that -- and yes, this next part is being delivered to the crowd from my perch on my very own high horse -- I might not feel this way if I had a pair of balls instead of a set of tits and ovaries. Not because there's some kind of property in estrogen that makes this particular birthday difficult but because, basically, men decided a while ago that at the age of 40 a woman's vagina begins to rot out of her body and she no longer serves any sort of purpose for humankind or the subservient animal kingdom. And since we haven't yet reached a time when the vast majority of men (and some women, too) are willing to share this world equally with us uterine folk, what they say tends to go. I'm just lucky that I'm not an actress cause if I was, I'd only get cast opposite Kirk Douglas, Alan Arkin or the second Albus Dumbledore once the big 4-0 hit. 

I do admit to generally liking birthdays, despite the fact that mine is so close to Christmas. I have all the normal triggers that everyone whose birthday is close to Christmas has. One tradition that never gets old: when my best friend gives me my birthday gift, it is ALWAYS accompanied by her pointing out the non-Christmas wrapping paper. And you know what? I fucking appreciate that. But, as I was saying, I do. I like birthdays. I like the fun. I like the attention. Fuck, I like the presents. I'm woman enough to admit that freely. 

But...for reals...I am seriously not liking this one. I remember when I was twenty, thinking to myself that I was halfway to 40 and how fast that first 20 years went. And now the next twenty have gone by. I hope I nail down the ability to savor every moment in the next twenty so it doesn't feel like it's flying by so fast. So I don't close my eyes for what seems like a second only to realize I'm turning 60. 

I have a sneaking suspicion though that this next 20 is going to be amazing. For maybe the first time ever in my life I feel on the cusp of something. I feel like I'm approaching the very beginning of my destiny and instead of pulling at my leash to get away, I'm running towards it. 

So, maybe 40 isn't going to be so bad. Maybe, just maybe, 40 is going to be amazing. Maybe, at age 40, I'll begin to take over the world. And when I do, I'm going to make sure that 40 is no longer "old". 40 will no longer be the age when people begin to decompose and slowly approach irrelevancy. And by people, I mean women. 

40, instead, will be the age when we begin our ascent into a higher plane of existence. 40 will be when a new level of respect is reached and a new, more refined, thought process is developed. 40 will be the beginning of the Age of Enlightenment. 

And, you know, 40 will be when we start becoming our most awesome selves.