Today I’m 43.
Honestly, it feels a little rude considering I just turned 30, but I’m fine with it. I don’t feel 43 in the way that I thought I’d feel 43. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t feel wiser or older. I certainly don’t feel more organized or put together. I don’t even know what’s for dinner tonight.
What I do have (and what’s increasingly obvious) is a much lower tolerance for bullshit. Which is saying something, because my tolerance for that was already on the very low side. But, I am who I am. I don’t mind it.
My 20s were all about starting my life. Getting married, starting our family, figuring out what life might look like for us in the future. My 30s were all about just trying to keep everyone alive and building the life we’ve created. Raising four kids and maintaining a happy, healthy marriage, remembering dental appointments for a family of six, realizing we really are in charge of figuring out what’s for dinner every single night of our lives until the day we die, and pretending I knew what I was doing.
My 40s? Well, I still have a few more years to go in this decade before I can confidently tell you what that’s all about, but I have some ideas. My 40s are a time of a lot of change. Kids becoming adults and moving out. College applications and teenage drivers and realizing that all of my kids are teens, and no one is a baby anymore. I did think I’d be less busy in my 40s, but raising teenagers has humbled me of that opinion. Never. Been. Busier. In. My. Life.
I think my 40s might be about learning to let go gracefully, to embrace change in our family dynamic, and to learn to let go of what no longer serves me. Though, to be fair, I’ve been letting go of what doesn’t serve me for a long time. I thought that in honor of turning 43 today, I might take a moment to think about the things that I’m not taking with me into this new year of my life…and it’s pretty good stuff to leave behind.
Explaining myself to people who have already decided who I am.
There comes a point in life when you realize that someone isn’t confused about you. They simply have their version of you, and no amount of explaining to them that you are not that person is going to change their minds. Small minds are just that…very small. So, without further ado, carry on with your opinion and enjoy. It’s none of my business, and it’s not my place to correct you.
Feel free to believe what works for you, what you want, and what makes you feel the way you need to feel about me. There are people who will go out of their way to believe the worst of me because it fits their narrative. There are people who think they know who I am as a person because they knew me 20 years ago, and they have absolutely no idea how much I’ve changed in two decades. There are people who will form their idea of me based on the small snippets of my life I share on social media.
It’s okay. I’m fine with everyone believing what they want to believe. I hope the idea of me that people have makes for some very fun stories. The fodder is fun.
Being available simply because I’m capable.
Listen guys…I’m a perpetual volunteer. I am the first field trip chaperone. The first to donate. The first to be available for everyone because I’m capable of so many things. But, also, I’m a very tired person. My kids aren’t small anymore, which means spending the day volunteering my time every single time I’m asked is not longer an option. Why? Because at the end of the day, I don’t get to just go home and relax after a long day of volunteering. I have to take kids to golf courses and football games and shopping and work on homework and do all the things that need to be done as a mom of four.
So, just because I’m capable no longer means I’m available. I really love that for me.
The same goes for my family. Just because I am a mother and a wife does not make me everyone’s household manager. It is my responsibility to remember the dental appointments, and the pediatric appointments, and all the things, but it is not my responsibility to remember when homework assignments are due, and what everyone else needs to handle in their own lives.
The need to keep everyone comfortable.
Soooo…here’s the thing. Your comfort is not my responsibility. My comfort is. The comfort of my family is my responsibility. Not yours. The problem for women is that we learn very early and very young to ‘keep the peace’ and try to make everyone feel as comfortable as possible. But, I don’t want to do that. I don’t have the patience, the time, or the energy to keep you comfortable.
We are taught not to be too loud, not to be awkward, not to be too opinionated, not to make people feel bad or rock the boat. Unfortunately for some, I am really, really good at doing all of those things. While I will never go out of my way to make anyone feel awkward or uncomfortable or bad, I will do it when and if it becomes necessary. First and foremost, if you feel awkward, bad, or uncomfortable because of me, it’s probably on you and not on me.
If you child is being an asshole, I’ll talk to you about it. If your behavior is gross, happy to share my insights. I’m not going out of my way to keep you comfortable when I need to keep myself and my family comfortable. Sadly, the idea of ‘keeping the peace’ tends to only make people feel small in order to keep others from feeling uncomfortable, and I’m just not doing that.
Relationships that require me to do all the work.
This is something I learned before 40, but I will continue to carry this into my 40s. I don’t have time for friendships that feel one-sided. And listen, I don’t need you to check in with me every single day. I don’t need to see you every single day. I don’t need to be attached to your hip. I just need you to be a good friend, reciprocate, and be there for me without carrying your insecurities, dramatics, and personal issues into the friendship.
Thankfully, I have surrounded myself with the best of the best. The kind of friends that know that I love them, and I know they love me, without taking everything personally. For example, this weekend we spent the entire day with some of our oldest friends – who also happen to be family. We don’t see them nearly as often as we’d like, but we collectively have six children in very different phases of life, in different cities, and very busy careers.
When we do get to spend time with them, we love every second of it. But what’s even better is that no one is offended when someone can’t do something. Gone are the days when I receive an invitation only to decline it because we’re tired or it’s our only day to relax the entire week, and I’m made to feel guilty about not wanting to hang out with people. The ‘if you wanted to, you would,’ people. Because guess what? You’re right. I would. But I didn’t. We are perfectly entitled to turn down invitations when we just don’t feel like socializing, and it certainly doesn’t mean we love someone less. It just means we are prioritizing our own needs.
More to the point, gone are the days when I will allow anyone into my life who makes me feel guilty for saying no. If my best friend called me right now and said come over for dinner (well, I’d go because honestly it’s right down the street and it’s just like staying home) and I said no thank you, it’s our only night home for over a week, they’d understand and be completely fine with that without taking it personally or being assholes about it.
The idea that being a good mom means doing every single thing for everyone.
This one is going to be difficult for me because that’s just who I am. I’m always going out of my way for my kids. But, my time is limited. And I truly do not believe my kids benefit from having a mom who is so exhausted she doesn’t find joy in doing things for them any longer. I don’t want to become the resentful mom, the snippy mom, the exhausted mom. I’d like my kids to like me.
My kids need me. But they certainly don’t need me to do every single thing for them. They can put their own laundry away. Make their own lunch. Clean their own rooms and bathrooms. They can do the things, and I’m letting them. I like to think of it as character building for all involved.
Apologizing for liking nice things.
Admittedly, I am the most high maintenance person I know. I am likely the most high maintenance person my friends know (as they do like to remind me of this regularly), but I am not going to apologize for that.
No, I’m not staying in any accommodation that requires me to park my own car or carry my own luggage. I’m not driving 45 minutes to eat at a fucking Bonefish when there are a dozen spectacular restaurants with a real wine list nearby. I’m not going out without makeup.
I’m not shallow, but I am me. And I will not apologize for that.
Performative happiness.
I don’t need my life to look perfect. I just need my life to feel good. I am not going to fake being happy when I’m not. I’m not going to pretend things are fine when they are not. I’m not going to act as if life is perfect and everything is amazing all the time. I am genuinely blessed with a really good life, but I’m not going to pretend my husband and kids don’t drive me nuts on occasion. I’m not going to pretend motherhood is perfect when sometimes it is not. I’m not going to pretend I’m perfect when very clearly I am not.
Performative happiness and toxic positivity are a little gross to me. No one is that happy all the time, and it always makes me feel that the people portraying that are actually the most miserable people in the world. You can have an amazing fucking life and still wish your family would disappear for two days so you can have a second of peace and fucking quiet without them.
Taking things personally.
I have become very good at this. It’s not about me. It’s about you. Your behavior, your feelings, your thoughts, your everything. It has nothing to do with me and who I am. It has everything to do with you and how you are. This is why I don’t take your behavior, your feelings, or your words personally. But I will say a little prayer for you.
That I need to have everything figured out.
I don’t. I never will. And that’s all right. I’m living this life for the first time, and I’m learning every day. It’s okay that I have no idea what’s going on. It’s okay that I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s okay. I don’t need to have it all figured out because I never will.
Long story short, I just really feel good about 43 and all that it has to offer, and I’m thankful I am here. I am thankful for what I have and who I have, and I’m thankful I get to do this life.
Happy Birthday to me!
