Reflecting on My 40th Birthday

When I was a child, turning 40 was unimaginable. Could people even live that long?

As a teenager, I understood that 40 was not so old, yet I was convinced I’d never make it to that age. So many of my heroes were killed before making it to 40. I figured that if I lived my life right, I’d be gone by then, too. (I realized only years later that I wasn’t nearly so cool).

In my 20s, I felt more cynical about birthdays. I didn’t care so much for my own, and I didn’t understand why others cared for theirs. The whole concept is so arbitrary. And besides, why celebrate being closer to death?

Over time, my cynicism waned, but ambivalence remained. Birthdays were fine, mostly because they gave reason to connect with people I didn’t talk to often: phone calls, text messages, and emails.

And now, here I am, completing my 40th year on this planet, appreciating birthdays more than I did before. (Maybe because I’m getting softer as I age?). It’s a milestone, and it still feels somewhat arbitrary, but it does give me a reason to pause and reflect.

The past 40 years have been an incredible journey, with twists and turns that I couldn’t have ever imagined: everything from where I live and who I share my life with, to how I spend my time and what I’ve achieved. Even the things I had planned—like finding a partner and raising a family—are beyond my wildest dreams.

I have plenty to be grateful for, and it feels almost pointless to begin listing all my blessings. What’s the point when the list has no end?

But then I remember gratitude is also an exercise in noticing. And one thing I want to do more of in the time I have left is to notice those things around me that I overlook and fail to appreciate.

Today, as I turn 40, I’m noticing all the things I enjoy today that feel unexpected. A marriage that’s now 16 years young, to a partner who has helped create a life grounded in shared values, and who is an amazing mother to our full-hearted girls. Siblings who are caring and loving and brilliant and fun and hilarious. Parents who are healthy and supportive and active forces in the lives of their kids and grandkids. Friends in similar life stages, going through similar experiences, and sharing our journeys together.

It’s not like any of this is new, and it’s not even that I didn’t hope for these relationships. But I could have never imagined the texture of it all, how full life could be. When I would dream about my future, I saw shapes and colors, I heard sounds and voices. But that bears no comparison to life itself.

It’s the intricacies that make what we experience into reality. The tightness of the squeeze after a few days away from home. The taste of that juicy peach I bought from the farmstand yesterday. How, this morning, despite being under the weather and being sleep-deprived, my little family found the energy to say happy birthday htis morning.

I’m looking forward to the next 40 years, or however much time I have left. But I’m not going to try and map it out. I have some hopes and dreams, yet I also recognize that I have no idea what life has in store for me. Today, I’m just going to appreciate all that I have and all that I’ve been given, which to me, feels like everything.

Thank you, everyone, for being part of this journey with me.