On Turning 40

I’ve heard a lot of women say that their 40th birthday was their most difficult. Thus far, I am approaching that milestone with as much grace and dignity as I might have hoped…with a few concessions…I bought myself a pair of Chinese Converse Knock-offs and I plan to dye my hair bright red. (Allow me to take a moment to extol the many virtues of cheap Chinese knock-offs. They are most likely made in the same factory, by the same tortured laborers, yet they cost $65 dollars less and I do not have to endure the crisis of collective identity that comes with riding a bandwagon. Cheap Chinese knock-offs always have some silly flaw. My Ju*Hang shoes are stitched over the ankle with the number 80 – Jerry Rice, perhaps? – except over the right foot, it is 08.)

Though I have yet to verbalize the experience in print, turning 30 was extremely difficult for me. It was a tumultuous and emotional period in my life. By contrast, 40 seems a nice number – the first digit hard and sharp, the second soft and round, an appropriate metaphor for my current mental state and evolving physical condition..

Birthdays are a natural time for reflection. Perhaps none more so than 40, which in my (and Maude’s) opinion is indeed the most accurate demarcation of mid-life. This last week, Kevin and I have been indulging in a considerable amount of reflection and reminiscence, and I can say with no uncertainty, that I am incredibly satisfied with the first half of my life. It has been rich and full beyond my imagination. While I have no intention of doing so, I can honestly say I could die tomorrow and not feel short changed.

Now, I know the older of you amongst my blogging audience will scoff at this statement, and I fully reserve the right to revise my opinion as my life draws closer to its end – I am cognizant of human nature. But for now, I take comfort and pride in a life lived daringly, if not drunkenly.

Oh, and for all the kindly people throughout my life who have frequently and gleefully told me “Oh, yeah, you’re skinny now, but just wait until you turn 40. Your metabolism will change and you’ll blimp out just like the rest of us.”

Congratulations.

I hope you choke on your maliciously smug prescience.