After turning 40, I tried to figure out why the fuck I was having such a hard time with it. I mean it’s just a number, right? And it’s not like I “look” 40. I could easily pass for 35.
I realized that I had become wrapped up in what 40 was “supposed” to be like. I wasn’t supposed to be 40 and renting a little casita. I wasn’t supposed to be “starting over.” I wasn’t supposed to be in debt. or divorced. or having a foreclosure on my credit. or working at a job that feels like a life a sentence.
But I had to slap myself out of it. Because all that doesn’t mean shit!
I’m 40! And I have found the love of my life. And Starting Over is amazing because for once in my life I know who I am and what I need. And my girls are happy. And I may not be living in my “dream” home. Or working at my ‘dream” job. Or buy the latest Coach bag on a whim. But I wealthy beyond my wildest dreams when it comes to what truly matters.
And sometimes? The most unexpected thing comes when you need it most.