Turning 40? Happens to Everyone.
If you’re lucky enough.
At the time of writing, I have just about 10 million seconds left in my thirties. I believe this gives me a fair vantage point to assess the situation.
Yes, things are cracking. Not just your bones, mind you. Out of the corner of your eye, you can almost see the Grand Canyon — deep valleys fanning out towards your temples. Those are all earned, mind you. They are badges of laughter and sunsets spent in good company. You spend more on skin care than you did on drinks in your twenties. Priorities do change. Your lotions are all anti-something.
Friendships are fewer, and sharper, and clearer. They need intentional tending, like a garden. Making new ones is a real pain because by now you’ve accepted that you don’t like most people — or to phrase it another way, you have high admission standards, like Yale. But because your instincts are well-seasoned and your crazy-radar is finely tuned, new friends become beautiful additions to the garden that bring you joy and help sustain your sanity.
Real shit has hit the fan now more times than you can count and you have learned that you do come out of it stronger. You know full well who would be there next time and who wouldn’t. More often than not, you are now the responsible adult in the room picking up the pieces. Even if you try, you can no longer…
