There I was, a week away from turning 40 years old, sitting in my one-bedroom apartment on 82nd and Columbus. My first ever apartment on my own. I found it after weeks of searching in the dead of winter, schlepping around the Upper West Side with my friend Shachar, looking for a place I could afford by myself. My husband of 17+ years and I were officially separated, navigating divorce and co-parenting our daughter, so I was trying to stay within a commutable radius between the old apartment I’d moved out of, the restaurant where I was Head Chef, and the life I’d been building in NYC since moving from Charlotte in 2020.
It was the highest and the lowest point of my life. As I fumbled through our make-shift, resentment-laden custody negotiations, I only had my daughter, Millie, a couple days a week. And each time…two days felt like two hours. Hours I spent fighting an uphill battle to remind her that I was still her mother, that she was the most important thing to me, that maybe she could see I was trying to be the best version of myself for her.
I was running a successful restaurant, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing exactly what I was meant to. In my work life, I felt completely fulfilled…I loved working in the restaurant, long hours and all. It was challenging, it was non-stop, it was life-giving.
Turning 40 was the official beginning of the most exciting chapter of my entire life. Everything I’d been working for and wanting, it was all within reach. I felt like I was finally seeing the light at the end of a very dark tunnel.
And like any good, undiagnosed woman with ADHD, I started a list…40 Things I Had Learned by 40…and well, that list sat unfinished and unpublished and unshared for the last three years.
If you’ve been keeping up with me here on the ‘stack, you know this year my birthday has looked different than years past. I’ve been so exhausted and overwhelmed that I’ve had very little motivation to get my birthday on. But I revisited this list yesterday, before I met my girlfriends for a night of dinner and birthday karaoke, and it gave me a flash of memories…of what it’s taken me to get here, all it’s taken to bring me where I am, and all I’ve learned along the way. And all the exhaustion and anxiety melted away and…I saw her.
I saw the 40 year old version of myself, the one who was literally at her lowest and highest at the same time. I saw the freedom in her face, the hopefulness and willingness to do whatever she needed to do to keep moving forward…the one who didn’t know the future, but knew to take the next best step.
So, three years later than planned…here’s the list.
43 Things I’ve Learned by 43
It’s ok to be late, but not always.
People change, and that’s ok.
What worked beautifully for 16+ years might not work for you now.
Don’t regret. Learn from the failures instead.
Be present. Look at their face when they talk. Look people in the eyes.
Feedback is the greatest gift, because it’s a chance to be better.
Every single one of us wants to be seen, known, and understood.
Always have 1-3 karaoke songs in your back pocket at any given time.
Hurt people hurt people. Everyone is dealing with something.
We all need grace and space to get it wrong sometimes.
Dance. Have a signature move on the ready.
Balance is key…in everything. Don’t take yourself too seriously.
Rock climbing is really fun, even at 40. And yoga and stretching…both necessary.
Hugs are healing.
Call your parents and siblings, often. And coffee dates with your best friend are essential to life.
Beware of the gap…the one between where you are and where you want to be.
Be gentle with yourself. Take breaks. Work less than you think you need to.
There’s absolutely nothing you can do to change the past.
Two ears, one mouth. Listen more than you talk.
Look for the light, especially in the dark. It grows brighter the more you notice it.
Sushi is always a good idea.
Running and walking are really good for you, even when it’s really slow.
Dry shampoo is life changing.
Kindness. Give it and have it, always.
Stillness is important. Be still and silent, often.
Don’t worry about things that probably won’t happen. Don’t get wrapped up in hypotheticals. Don’t let future plans hold you back from living in the present.
The ocean is your reminder that the world is bigger than you.
Boundaries are important. But boundaries are for yourself, not for others.
If a relationship only takes, it isn’t for you.
Sleep is your friend. 7 hours is golden.
Flexibility and strength are the basics for life, relationships, jobs…everything.
Community is key. Look for ways to build up the people around you.
Never compare. There’s no one else like you, even doing the exact same job.
Respect and trust are earned, not given just because someone’s older or more experienced.
Facials and massages are life-giving, always.
Travel solo at least once in your life.
Always have a zombie apocalypse go-kit packed and ready.
Do what you love. But don’t always turn hobbies into jobs…sometimes that turns joy into a burden.
If it feels wrong, it usually is.
You don’t need to stay in a situation that’s wrong for you. Know when to let go.
Appreciate happiness when it’s there.
Find some joy in everything you do, smile daily.
Make time to write, so you don’t forget what happened.
That last one, number 43, is exactly why this list sat unfinished in my notes app for three years, and exactly why I’m finally hitting publish on it today, two days before I actually turn 43, instead of waiting around for the day itself.
She didn’t know any of this yet, the girl on the floor of that apartment on 82nd and Columbus. She didn’t know she’d marry Yas. She didn’t know Millie would one day come flying out of a middle school doorway with a new friend and a face full of relief. She didn’t know a Trader Joe’s reopening could genuinely make her cry in a parking lot, or that there’d be a Substack, or a Freckled Fork, or a life with this much texture in it. She didn’t see the tapestry just yet, only the threads…the different colors, threads, yarn, ribbons and twine of life’s twists and turns. She just knew to take the next best step, to do the work to weave those threads together…the picture was unclear, but the path was there for the taking. That was the whole thing…turns out that was enough.
Last night, at karaoke, my best friend since freshman year of college, Marie, my lighthouse in this city for years before I ever actually lived here, stood next to me and screamed her way through Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know” like we were both teenagers again. Marie’s known me since I was 18. She’s been there through every single iteration on this list, every number, every version of myself I’ve moved up and down through to get here. Somewhere in the middle of that song, mid-scream, I thought about the girl on the floor of that apartment…about how far a next best step can actually take you, one at a time…over three years…over forty-three…and over one very determined best friend who never once let go of my hand through any of it.
So this is me, handing my 40 year old self the list she never got to finish…hugging her tightly and giving her the grace and space to know that she’s earned every single line of it…we both did.
Happy birthday to me…three years later, and somehow right on time.
For my first 30ish years thought 40 was so old, until about 35 when I started realizing I couldn’t wait till my 40’s. Love your list of reflections!