This is 40

Welp, on June 7th, I had my big birthday. I am officially not a spring chicken. If I’m being honest, this age feels old and I don’t love saying my age aloud, but I’m trying to embrace it because I’ve lived a pretty amazing life so far. On the plus side, 40 years on this earth has taught me a few lessons. Not that you asked, but here are my words of wisdom:

We show up for family. It’s just what you do. That means saying yes to all the milestone events, taking people to doctor’s appointments, buying the Girl Scout cookies, and going on group vacations. And doing it all without asking questions.
Vocalize the positives. Don’t just tell your husband/partner/friend about the things that make you upset. There’s a lot of power in saying the good things out loud.
Read with your kids. By 2.5, Finn was noticeably more verbal and communicative than many of his peers. I attribute that to all the reading we do. Or maybe it was all luck – who knows – but the reading certainly didn’t hurt.
While you’re at it, get on the floor and roll around with them. Be the parent your kid wants to do stuff with.
Don’t expect to be ultra passionate about your job. Sure, it happens for some people, but for most of us, it’s called work for a reason. And that’s ok! That’s what hobbies are for. Even people lucky enough to stumble into a super fun career that looks perfect on the outside still have to deal with the boring business stuff. And it’s about priorities: if your priority is crazy travel and lavish dinners, you might have to put in the hours at a job that’s less than fun to afford that lifestyle. It’s also about trade offs and recognizing that it’s usually proportionate – the harder you want to ball, the more connected you’ll have to be. Nobody is entitled to a ton of money and free time without having to put up with the boring bits. A [very] few people might luck out, but it’s not a fundamental right.
When reading is the last thing you do before falling asleep (even if it’s a book on your phone) your anxiety drops drastically. Even more than exercise, this has had the biggest impact on my mental health. (And exercise helped a lot.)
Trust the vibes. If you’re picking up on something, you’re probably right. More than once, in previous business roles/ventures, things seemed “off,” but I chose to ignore that nagging feeling because I’m generally a trusting person who believes everyone would behave the way I do in business. There’s no need to turn into a cynic, but in all those previous instances, my gut turned out to be correct. I wish I had saved myself the anguish.
You know you’re smart. You dont have to prove anything to anybody so don’t bother with the things you “should” be reading and watching if you don’t actually enjoy it. There is nothing wrong with books, podcasts, and tv as pure escapism. If you want to read a dense classic novel or watch something from the criterion collection, by all means, go for it! But don’t trudge through it if it’s not bringing you joy. Read the romcom if that’s what will relax you and don’t feel bad about watching reality tv. Life itself is too serious and too short. And there’s something really satisfying about whipping out your knowledge when you’ve been underestimated based on your fondness for romantasy and housewives.
Your social life doesn’t have to change with kids…your non-social life does. I was prepared to enter a new life stage when I became a parent; I didn’t go in blind. But what I didn’t fullyyyy understand is that bed rot ceases to exist – ENTIRELY – once you’re a parent. It doesn’t matter if you’re hungover; it doesn’t matter if you’ve had the longest most stressful work week; it doesn’t matter if you came down with the flu. So long as you have a child physically in your home, there is no such thing as a day where you just lay around, eat junk food, watch trash tv, and read a book. Help usually exists when you want to be social: you can get a babysitter and carve out time for date nights or your partner can cover for an evening so you can go to happy hour. But help when you want to recharge that social battery – alone – is much harder to come by. (And you’d for sure be judged.) People assume it’s the social life that suffers, but I’ve found it’s the opposite. What I lost was the ability to be a full hermit for a day or weekend. And as someone who really enjoys a truly lazy day every once in a while, this has been the toughest thing.
Place a high value on experiences. Legend has it that I once said to my mom at age 6 or 8 that “when I grow up I want to be rich so I can eat at restaurants.” Three-plus decades later and not much has changed. I’ve never cared much about jewelry or clothes or…things. But I’ve always cared about food and experiencing something, preferably with the people I care about most; and I am willing to spend money if it means facilitating those experiences. I’d much rather go to a museum, travel, or cook with Finn than buy him toys. Memories are EVERYTHING.