Do you remember the joy of turning a year older as a kid, when you could finally add that “…and a half” to your age? When was the last time you felt that excitement?
When I hit the big 4-0 a couple of years ago, I was surprisingly okay with it. In fact, I was more than okay! Like many others in the same stage of life, I embraced it wholeheartedly. I started running as a personal challenge, and while I won’t bore you with my times, I exceeded my own expectations. I even took the plunge into therapy, digging deeper than I ever had before, and yes, I got my first tattoo too!
I made it a point to celebrate publicly. “Guess who just turned 40…” I posted on social media, eagerly soaking in the flood of birthday wishes. I wasn’t shy about my age—not nearly as much as society typically expects us to be. I felt youthful, and honestly, I still looked pretty good! Scrolling through photos of old classmates and college friends, I noticed something: most of us didn’t seem old at all. We looked just right for our age. That’s when I realized that my generation is redefining what middle age means. Forget the old stereotype of gloom and doom; “Forty is the new thirty,” as a friend put it, and I wholeheartedly believed it.
However, I began to notice something peculiar. Many of my friends were discreetly erasing their true ages from social media. Specific birthdates vanished, graduation years disappeared, and nostalgic posts shifted from “Can you believe this was 19 years ago?” to “Remember this moment from some time in the past?” It was as if we were slipping through some invisible doorway, transitioning from “youthful” to “slightly uncomfortably old,” and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.
“Look at us—we’re vibrant, successful, and fun!” I would cheer on my friends in my head. Forty is the new thirty! I tried to push away that creeping sense of unease. Living in a college town didn’t help; as I aged, the majority of the population remained perpetually young, making the years feel even harsher.
But why should we feel embarrassed about our age at 40? When my friends turned 41, it was as if no one wanted to acknowledge it. “We’re just getting younger!” they joked in vague birthday posts or shared memes about how “Age is just a state of mind.” The truth is, age is indeed a number. Yet, that number should be worn with pride, not with shame. This heart of mine, once a mere flicker on an ultrasound, has been beating for over four decades. During that time, I’ve tackled labor and delivery twice (three times, if you count my own!), survived middle school, weathered hurricanes, navigated through bad hairstyles, and made it through college mischief, not to mention countless life changes.
I’ve had friends who have climbed mountains, authored bestselling books, triumphed over adversity, advanced their careers, raised amazing children, and even started their own nonprofits. Achieving these milestones requires energy, ambition, and, above all, time. Years of life experiences are etched in those driver’s licenses, even if they’re not openly displayed.
I admit that I’ve succumbed to peer pressure, too. Last year, I hid my birthdate on Facebook out of fear of being the only one flaunting my age as a proud 41-year-old. It felt strange hiding “1982.” Was I ashamed of my birth year? Not quite. Did I wish I could erase a few years? Not really. Would I want to relive my 30s? Absolutely not!
Sure, I’m not thrilled about some aspects of aging. My carefree days of avoiding hair dye are dwindling, and I’m not particularly fond of those deepening laugh lines. But you know what? I’m grateful they’re here. Each laugh line is a testament to a life filled with joy, mistakes, growth, and love over these 42 and a half years.
So, here’s to being honest about our age—loud and proud! Let’s celebrate every moment, complete with those awkward photos from our past.
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Summary
Aging shouldn’t be a source of embarrassment, especially as we reach our 40s and beyond. Instead, it should be embraced with pride, celebrating the experiences and achievements that come with each year. It’s time to stop hiding our age and start wearing it like a badge of honor.