As I approach my 42nd birthday, the urge to retreat into familiar comforts grows stronger, yet this year, I am committed to confronting what I like to call the “Birthday Blues.” Today, I find myself reflecting on how this milestone can be twice as enriching as turning 21.
It’s common to romanticize youth as a time filled with freedom and reckless abandon. However, if I’m honest, my younger years were often characterized by chaos and uncertainty. In my twenties, I believed I was invincible. I ventured alone across Europe, worked my way through Australia, and took jobs in unfamiliar states. I climbed the Alps and explored the depths of the Red Sea. Yet beneath my adventurous facade lay a deep-seated fear of inadequacy.
I was anxious about discovering my true purpose, leading me to chase every opportunity that came my way, often feeling like I was trying on different careers like outfits at a department store. I feared loneliness, which caused me to cling to unfulfilling relationships. I doubted my worthiness of love, often pushing it away. I felt weak, so I sought out physical challenges, and I worried I wasn’t experiencing enough joy, leading to a whirlwind of excess (though I don’t regret the fun). I pretended to be knowledgeable, even when I was clueless, and feared being wrong, which kept me from admitting mistakes. Jealousy crept in as I envied others’ lives, and I often lost myself trying to be someone I wasn’t.
In my forties, I’ve shifted my perspective. While I no longer consider myself fearless, I find that I fear less. I’ve learned the importance of listening more and talking less, discovering that the inner voice is powerful and should not be silenced. I’ve realized that one doesn’t need to be flawless to find genuine love, as embracing imperfections can open the door to authentic connections.
I now understand the profound love a parent can feel for their child, a bond that remains unshaken by circumstances. Strength, I’ve come to realize, is not solely about the challenges we face but also in how we respond to life’s unpredictable moments. For instance, my friend Sarah’s mother faced cancer over the holiday season yet returned to work with resilience. Additionally, my friend Mark’s father, despite physical limitations, lives each day with gratitude and joy.
I still strive for more joy in life and will continue to share my journey. At this stage, I acknowledge that my knowledge is limited, as my children remind me of daily. Admitting “I don’t know” has freed me from the chains of perfectionism. Likewise, I’ve learned the significance of saying “I’m sorry,” which often comes up when mediating conflicts between my kids. These words carry weight and are vital for healing.
Though I occasionally admire others’ seemingly perfect lives, I’ve learned to appreciate my own path. Life doesn’t always grant us our desires; rather, it provides what we need to grow. Whether experiencing joy or sorrow, success or failure, it is always enough. Ultimately, I am enough, flaws and all.
Despite these insights, fears persist. The world feels more daunting since becoming a parent, with concerns about safety and time. I worry about the speed of cars in our neighborhood and the unseen dangers of life. Most significantly, I fear not having enough time with my loved ones and not cherishing those moments as deeply as possible.
As I enter 42, I aim to confront these fears head-on. If I continue this journey, by the time I reach 84, I may have a better grasp on life’s complexities.
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In summary, turning 42 is a moment for reflection—a time to embrace growth and acknowledge that we are enough just as we are.