As I approach the big 4-0, I can feel its presence creeping closer, even without glancing at a calendar. My hair reveals more grey strands that catch the light (and, let’s be honest, some of them seem to sprout straight out in defiance—thanks, nature). Those laugh lines seem to have taken up permanent residence. I’ve noticed a subtle waddle reminiscent of John Cage from Ally McBeal, and I can no longer ignore it: I am aging.
Yet, I refuse to accept the label of “middle-aged.” The truth is, no one truly knows when that phase begins. For my mom, it was at 25. For my partner’s grandmother, it started at 51. While middle age can sometimes be defined numerically, it feels more like a societal construct—a time often associated with crisis and self-doubt. It’s not a narrative I’m willing to adopt. In fact, it feels like I’ve only truly started to live in the past few years.
Reflections on Childhood
Like most people, my memories from early childhood are vague. I recall pouring sand into a tree trunk because a friend insisted it would make it grow—she was mistaken; I remember the shock of sticking my fingers down my throat (guess what happened next!); and I can still picture being lured back home during a runaway attempt with the promise of a peanut butter cup (it worked!). Those formative years are mostly a blur.
Lessons from Adolescence
I’ve moved beyond the awkwardness of my preteen years. Occasionally, I find myself wishing I could relive those early teen moments—not because they were particularly enjoyable, but because if I had the knowledge I possess now, things would be different. I would thrive in English class and confidently stand up for those facing unfair treatment, regardless of how it might affect my popularity. I would chase after my passions without worrying about others’ opinions. And yes, I would have ditched the high-topped sneakers a lot sooner!
Discovering Adulthood
My twenties were an era of discovery. College, law school, and then the daunting leap into adulthood. I learned to navigate new cities, manage my finances, and recognize when it was time to part ways with relationships that no longer served either of us. It was a crucial period of finding my identity.
Then came my early thirties, dominated by the whirlwind of pregnancy, sleepless nights, and the chaos of raising little ones—what on earth was I supposed to do with these tiny humans? It was a time of exhaustion, uncertainty, and constant second-guessing. The pressure to get it all right was intense.
Embracing Confidence
Now, as I comfortably settle into my late thirties, I’m beginning to embrace confidence. I’ve chosen my friends and my partner wisely, and I’m proud of my accomplishments at work. I’m nurturing three incredible little beings and carving out time for activities that promote my happiness and well-being—like running, knitting, and writing.
My body reflects the journey I’ve been on, with all its battle scars. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be, thanks to long hours spent studying and working on the computer. My laughter has etched lines into my face, a testament to the joy I find in my life. My stomach may never be flat and my breasts, well, let’s just say they’ve changed post-pregnancy. Plus, I’m dealing with a chronic case of plantar fasciitis from all those miles I’ve walked.
Looking Ahead
I’m not naive enough to think my learning days are over. In fact, I’d be worried if they were—what fun would life be? I know there are many more challenges ahead, including navigating the teenage years with my own children. I’m sure there will be plenty more lessons and stories to reflect on in the mirror as I age.
If I’m fortunate, my middle age is still some time away. I have so much I want to experience and learn. So, I embrace my battle scars—they are far preferable to the alternative. Sure, I may occasionally glance in the mirror and long for a youthful visage. I might curse those grey hairs that defy gravity. I may even press my fingers against my cheeks, wishing for a tighter look. But I am proud to be on the brink of 40, ready to truly embrace life.
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Summary
As I near 40, I confront the realities of aging with a sense of pride and newfound confidence. Reflecting on my journey, I appreciate the lessons learned through various life stages, from childhood to adulthood, and I look forward to the experiences still to come. Embracing my battle scars, I reject the notion of being “middle-aged” and instead focus on living life to the fullest.