The big 4-0 is a few weeks away. There will be no big gala, milestone trip, photo session, or other reason to torture my friends or drain the bank account – just family and friends and a million reasons to not make a big deal of it. Sorry – you won’t be getting a 40th birthday party invitation.
Milestone trips are overrated
When I turned 30, I thought, “Thirty is a good reason to take a trip.” I found a great deal for a South American getaway, called the besties who said yes, and away we went. It was amazing – I spent two weeks with some of my favorite people, visited a couple of countries I’d never seen, and took full advantage of my youth and freedom. I had time, money, and wanderlust, and it was perfect.
I always thought I’d spend the next milestone hugging a llama at a Machu Picchu lookout or sitting on a sunny patio, my face smeared with olive oil and feta cheese, in Mykonos. But life has changed. Coming up on 40, I’m less wild and free, have no money, and have a beautiful youngster to contend with.
Why would I want a new stamp in the passport when I can stay home and wipe goldfish cracker crumbs off the walls, imploring my firey, golden-haired five-year-old to pick up her blasted Legos to the retort of, “Not today, bruh”? Don’t get me wrong, I still love to travel – always have, always will – and as much as I’d love to do something extraordinarily Instagram-worthy…well, not today, bruh.
(If you’re nodding your head right now, Candice Rainey preceded my midlife conundrum and wrote this brilliant opinion piece, I’m Over the Milestone 40th-Birthday Trip.)
A very merry (un)birthday to me
I’m a June baby – a true Gemini. Probably not the kind that makes your face twist when you hear the word Gemini because of someone you knew once. I have my moments of crazy, sure, but so do you. I’m the Gemini whose ideas are too big for her head, whose thoughts are much faster than her mouth, who starts things and may not finish because everything is interesting. I’m a quiet air sign – at gatherings, I talk to only one or two people about things of grave importance or I hang out with the dog. I married the life of the party, so basically, I never have to be of public interest ever again. Check that off the list.
That said, growing up, with so many of my friends gone on summer vacation, I had pool parties or went to the movies with the present few and never expected too much. As I got older and still to this day, I take my birthday off from work, eat ice cream for breakfast, get a massage, hang out in bookstores, buy something frivolous, take my four-legged best friend on a sniff-tour of the neighborhood – to put it plainly, I take a break from adulting.
At this point, I can actually hear the eyeballs of the 20- and 30-somethings rolling back in their heads. “I hope I’m not so boring AF when I’m her age.” Guess what? You will be, and you’ll have earned it, so tell your well-rested, Insta-perfect self to suck it.
Save the pachanga for your mama
I remember when my mom turned 40. All her friends gave her black and gray-colored greeting cards with headstones on them. The party decorations were morbid at best. Everyone made jokes about her being over the hill. But you know what? My mom was hot. She was fun. She was just getting started. And if J-Lo can do J-Lo at a decade my senior, I know everything is gonna be alright.
Turning 30 was its own kind of magic because I had a career, a home, money, and freedom. But at 40, I have a better career, a better home, a beautiful family, and a different kind of freedom. At 40, you’re more accepting of yourself and your situation, but you’re also more tolerant and copacetic with everything and everyone around you. And if something disrupts that peace, you give it a mental F-U.
Someday I’ll sun my saggy buns in Greece, someday I’ll pound some pisco in the Andes, and if I want, I can go to Napa or Mexico City for the weekend. As I head into my….gasp!…5th decade, I do so with a rich life and spiritual freedom. How damn cool is that?
You can keep your midlife crisis
All this to say, I’m not making a big deal of it. I really don’t need a midlife crisis. I’ve traveled, loved, and lived. I’ve done things the chubby, quiet, nerd could have never dreamed of. I’ve been disenfranchised and rebellious. I’ve been foolhardy, adventuresome, and audacious and survived it. I’ve jumped on all the opportunities I’ve been presented. I don’t have huge regrets that make me re-think my life’s direction, wondering if it’s too late to start again. To pivot and correct course.
I also don’t need to prove anything to anyone. I don’t need an espectáculo público, a big birthday spectacle to validate my existence or prove to others I’m worth celebrating (spoiler: I am!).
Truly, aging is an honor that not everyone enjoys or appreciates. I owe it to those I’ve lost to be grateful for each and every day. And I owe it to my parents for their good genes and life lessons.
40 years in excellent company
In the last decade, life has often humbled me, but it has also taken me from extravagantly self-indulgent to reflective and almost selfless. Almost.
What I really want is a huge reunion with all the people I love the most, like the end of the film Big Fish – all the mythical figures who have colored my life’s story; the eclectic, intellectual, fascinating group of friends I’ve cultivated all around the world. Refugees and immigrants, entrepreneurs and self-starters, teachers, pro-ballers, healers, musicians and artists, writers and fighters, romantics and nihilists…
But I don’t want that party to be on my deathbed. I want to dance and drink and enjoy that memory for at least a few years following. I want that every day.
I like where this milestone birthday is taking me and who it’s surrounding me with. This year, I honor you, friends, and hope to share a drink and some stories with you soon.
So back to the birthday: what should I actually do? Any ideas on how I can celebrate with my friends, family, homies, my people, in spite of distance? Anything I’d be amiss not to do?
