Happy to Be Over 40

A friend of mine recently turned 40, and cried for days. But I’m happy to be over 40.

Up until high school graduation, you are considered a child. A dependant. An under age, under developed, naïve student who thinks a 30 year old is ancient.

Once you hit 18, you can vote and drive, and in some states, drink. You are a legal adult, ready for the “real life” or college or whatever have you. But 30 is still ancient.

At 29, you’ve probably graduated from college, perhaps have started a family, and are incredible awestruck that next year you’re hitting the big 3-0. Climbing up that age ladder faster than you could ever imagine! And aren’t you supposed to know what you’re doing by now? And now, 40 is very old and mature.

At 40, you’re in the middle of your life. Your children are more independent now, and God, how did I get this old so fast? What will I do for the rest of my life? Why don’t I know what I want to be when I grow up? The horror! I’m old! I’m now over the hill!

But wait…40 isn’t all that bad. Up until now, we’ve been climbing up the hill (so to speak). And 40 was at the top. But I prefer to think of 40 as the bottom. Once again, I’m one of the younger ones in my social group. I’ve begun a new year and a new era. I’ve joined classes to enhance my own personal life. I’ve begun living more for myself instead of my kids. I’m not struggling to climb the hill anymore. I’ve reached one peak, and am gliding to the next.

40 is great. I just hope the wind keeps up so I can keep on gliding!