I’m in My 40s — Shouldn’t I Have Found My Zen by Now?

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As I navigate my 40s, I’ve come to realize I’ve unconsciously bought into a popular narrative—that by this age, as a woman, I should be content and at ease with myself. While it’s true that I stress less about things that used to keep me up at night in my 20s, I can’t genuinely say I’m entirely at peace or fully satisfied. Doubt and restlessness still creep in more often than I’d like.

There’s a constant feeling beneath the surface that I haven’t accomplished enough. Whether it’s preparing a snack for my kids or crafting a work project, I’m always inclined to add one more ingredient or tweak the language, even when all I need to say is, “Here’s an apple. I washed it.” It’s a healthy choice, and the effort shows, right?

Yet my mind chimes in with a litany of “Yeah, but…” excuses:

• Yeah, but it’s not organic.
• Yeah, but they asked for a snack ages ago.
• Yeah, but I still haven’t bought that cheese.
• Yeah, but I wanted to set up outside for some fresh air.
• Yeah, but what’s for dinner?

I tell my kids to be content with what they have and that their best is enough, yet I struggle to apply that wisdom to myself. I’m always moving the goalposts as if my efforts are only valid if I haven’t quite reached my destination.

I push myself to the brink, whether it’s with fitness, my wardrobe, or my body. Meeting my daily step goal on my fitness tracker doesn’t feel like a win; instead, I hear that nagging voice saying, “Yeah, but you could’ve tried harder.” The next day, I might log even more steps, but the same voice chimes in, “Couldn’t you have pushed a little more?” I buy clothes I think look good on me, only to get home and dissect every flaw—wishing I were thinner, firmer, or trendier. I’m quick to encourage friends by saying, “Look at all you do! You are more than enough!” yet I can’t seem to extend that same grace to myself.

Maybe what I’m truly afraid of is being enough. What am I really pursuing? My kids certainly don’t care if the apples are organic. Do I expect bells to ring when I check off my to-do list? It’s like I’m waiting for that moment when I can turn to the camera like a sitcom mom and say, “Now that’s a snack that makes me feel like a stellar mom!”

What if, instead of scrambling for perfection in my home, I accepted the evidence of our festive gatherings, like the marks left on the ceiling from our too-tall Christmas tree? What if I let go of the stain on the picnic blanket where we spilled fruit punch? What if I believed my partner when they whisper, “I love this spot” while running their hand along my back?

I want to wake up and not loathe everything in my closet or feel defeated before the day even starts. I recognize I’ll likely never fully stop overthinking things, but I know there has to be a better way than the cycle I’ve been stuck in. I could focus on being at peace with what I have instead of yearning for what I haven’t achieved yet. Because for all that I think I’m not accomplishing, the truth is there’s so much I actually am doing.

While I know I can’t magically eliminate doubt and frustration from my life, I can definitely start by lowering my expectations. And I think a good first step is to release the idea that I should have it all figured out by now in my 40s.

It’s a solid place to begin.

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Summary

In my 40s, I grapple with the expectation of being completely at peace with myself. Despite some growth, I still deal with feelings of inadequacy and doubt. I push myself to achieve more and often overlook the good I do. I want to learn to be more content with where I am, instead of constantly striving for an unattainable perfection.