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The best thing to happen to me

As 40 approaches, I find myself in a decidedly reflective mood. Life has not played out the way that I had envisioned. Dreams of grand career success, life fulfillment that was completely within my control, and all boxes ticked as I had been taught to—they’ve all fallen flat. If I’ll be brutally honest, I have not come close to accomplishing anything on my list.

For so long, I’ve found myself battling with feelings of inadequacy and failure as I grade myself against what I thought my life would look like. The checklist mentality that society handed me—the one that promised happiness if I just followed the prescribed path—has left me feeling hollow rather than whole. Each unchecked box became a small indictment, a quiet voice whispering that I wasn’t enough, that I hadn’t done enough, that time was slipping away and I was somehow falling behind in a race I never remembered signing up for.

But somewhere in the midst of this reckoning, something unexpected has happened. As I approach 40, I have found myself with a strange sense of calm washing over me. It arrived quietly, without fanfare, like the first light of dawn after a long night. And with it came questions I’d never thought to ask myself before: Where have I been rushing to? Why have I been so unhappy? What was I even chasing?

The answers, when they came, were both simple and profound. I have come to realize that I can start over. I can give myself that permission. Not in the sense of erasing everything that came before or pretending the past didn’t happen, but in the revolutionary act of choosing differently from this moment forward. The power to define what success looks like, what fulfillment means, what a life well-lived actually is—that power has always been mine. I just forgot I had it, or perhaps I never knew it was there to claim in the first place.

So here’s what I’m declaring: I get to decide what my life looks like from here going forward. Not my parents, not my peers, not the Instagram highlight reels that made me feel perpetually behind. Not the career ladder or the timeline that said I should have achieved certain things by certain ages. Not the voice of expectation that has narrated my life for so long. Me. I decide.

And I’m choosing to walk in the power of who I am—not who I thought I should be, not who I was told to become, but who I actually am right now, in this moment, with all my beautiful imperfections and hard-won wisdom. I’m choosing to honor the journey that brought me here, even if it didn’t look like what I’d planned. I’m choosing to release the grief of unfulfilled expectations and make space for something new, something truer, something mine.

HOORAY FOR 40!

And just like that, 40 has arrived. And she is more beautiful than we imagined.
You have survived the seasons that tried to wither you. You have pushed through episodes of doubt and lived through the days of youthful fearlessness, and the regrets it brings. And you are still here.
You are bold not because you are courageous, but because you have experienced all the raw emotions of life and chosen to live anyway. You are beautiful not despite your scars, but because of them. Each trial survived is a hat nod to your strength.
This space is for those of us who refuse to believe our best years are behind us. Because they’re not. They’re happening right now.

Here’s to you, and the best years of your life!

Welcome home. Your transformation starts here.

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