Last week I had my last birthday beginning with a 3. This time next year it will start with a 4.
Already the comments have started – the ‘things to do before you’re 40’ list, the ‘are you dreading it?’ messages.
And, do you know what? I can’t wait.
I only ticked a quarter of things off the list I was sent, but I don’t feel an urgent need to add any more. I don’t feel like I’ve had a boring life.
My list includes swim with dolphins, climb a glacier, publish a book, wake above the clouds, enter a sandcastle competition, sell a painting, make money from my own creative endeavours, party all night in Manchester, visit the Taj Mahal, ride an elephant, have kids, quit a job I hated, write a blog.
Looking back, my twenties and thirties weren’t a breeze. My twenties were about searching for love and the perfect job. My thirties were a decade of hard work and a search for self. I’m looking forward to giving zero fcks what the world thinks from now on.
Of course I’m still me. I still worry all the time what people think of me, my parenting, my body, my life choices. But thanks to a supportive husband and a bucket of self analysis I’m learning to love who and what I am.
I celebrated my birthday at Belton House with a gourmet picnic arranged by my fab hubbie (sushi and ciabatta and italian meats). I was outside in the sunshine with people I love and nothing required of me. Perfect. A decade ago I would have apologised for not living it up or getting smashed, as seems to be the expectation.
A while ago I started a blog called ‘Mummy Fit by Forty’. But I let it lapse. Who needs that kind of pressure? I eat well and walk lots. I’m unlikely to run a marathon but I don’t really care all that much. My knees are grateful.
So I’m happily approaching my Fearless Forties. Whatever I’m doing in life, I’m doing my best. It’s time to stop apologising for it and start giving zero fcks (I love that phrase, can you tell?)