Growing up in Eastern Europe during the late 1980s, I often heard my mother and her friends talk about what they called “old-age wisdom”: “A woman’s second prime begins at forty.” As a skeptical teenager, I dismissed their beliefs, attributing them to countless hours spent waiting in long lines. How could anyone’s prime reignite at forty when they were juggling multiple jobs, creating five-year plans, and navigating the chaos of daily life in Moscow? To me, by the time they reached forty, their only “second prime” would involve a break from parent-teacher meetings and the relentless search for basic necessities. That was, of course, if they managed to achieve the Communism they were promised.
Fast forward a few years. The Soviet Union crumbled, and we moved to the United States, where my mother now prepared dinner with ease, purchasing pre-cooked meals rather than waiting in line. She was in her mid-forties, yet I struggled to see any trace of that much-talked-about “second prime.” The laugh lines on her face were deep, she had gained some weight, and her hair needed more upkeep than ever. To my eyes, she didn’t embody that radiant second phase of life.
When I turned 40, I had completely forgotten about the concept of a second prime. I was busy navigating the challenges of parenthood, dealing with my daughter’s transition into her teenage years, and managing orthodontic bills. The notion of a second prime seemed as distant as my financial goals.
However, between the ages of 42 and 43, I began to notice a change within myself. The worries that once caused me sleepless nights started to fade, replaced by a newfound confidence that everything would eventually fall into place. My once fiery passion for arguments had diminished to the point where I was now more selective with my energy.
This shift didn’t mean I was becoming indifferent or naive. I still cared deeply but learned to prioritize my worries. I became adept at avoiding drama and removing toxic influences from my life. While my circle of friends may have shrunk, the joy I experienced with those who remained grew immensely.
On a less positive note, I also noticed my waistline expanding alongside my happiness. But instead of stressing about it, I cleared out my closet, saying goodbye to the jeans from my twenties and thirties that I would never fit into again. The idea of holding onto them was unrealistic and not nearly as satisfying as investing in a fresh pair of jeans.
The word “no” became a staple in my vocabulary, much like my family’s transition to an organic diet. I finally embraced the idea that I didn’t need others’ approval—I simply needed to like myself. It turned out this self-acceptance was the key to my happiness.
As the years passed, I leaned into gratitude. With each additional year past forty, I became more aware of my mortality. Instead of dwelling on what I lacked, I focused on appreciating the people and experiences in my life. Every evening, I made it a ritual to seek out the hidden blessings in the midst of life’s challenges, often accompanied by a nice glass of red wine.
A few months into this transformative phase, I began to suspect that perhaps the second prime my mother spoke of wasn’t just a fanciful notion. Maybe it was genuine.
“Mom,” I asked one day during a phone call, “Do you remember our talks about the second prime?”
“What?” she replied, distracted while driving to her favorite nail salon.
“You know, the second prime you and your friends used to discuss when I was a teenager.”
“Hold on,” she said, briefly disappearing from the call. When she returned, I could almost hear her rolling her eyes. “Your father is hungry. He can either wait or heat up that leftover pasta.”
At 66, my father still hadn’t mastered the art of cooking. I chuckled, realizing that even if my mother didn’t recall our conversations about the second prime, she was undoubtedly living it. And so was I.
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In summary, the concept of a woman’s “second prime” at forty may hold more truth than I initially believed. It’s about self-acceptance, gratitude, and realizing that life can get better with age.
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