When the hell did this happen?

Ahh, the 40's. And I don't mean the 1940's. I mean, I've hit the 40's. I turned 41 last August and I really thought I would freak out. It came and went so quietly I barely noticed it. As I approached 40 though, (think Ninja mode-stealthy, quiet), while I wasn't exactly kicking and screaming, I wasn't very happy about it either. 40 is old man! We've all said so when we were 20 something, 30ish. Uh oh, it's right around the corner. That's how quickly it gets here.

The line from When Sally met Harry comes to mind when I think of 40. She's crying about not having someone in her life and she says, "And I'm going to be 40." Harry says "When?" Her sobbing reply, "Someday.' Someday has been here and gone for me. I now have to check the 35 and older box on surveys. The first time I had to do it, I ain't gonna lie, it made me pause. Holy Shit! I'm almost 40. When the hell did this happen?!

I have found that age is what we make it. There are days I feel 82 and crippled when my back goes out. Then there are those days when I feel 18, 19, 20. I can see my inner punk princess peeping through. Flipping off the world at large. And I want to wear the shredded jeans, combat boots, green streaks in my hair, safety pins through my ears (80's girl). Instead I choose a nice, sedate outfit by Ralph Lauren with heels and full makeup to prepare to face the world. When the hell did this happen?

I thought for sure that my ass would hit the back of my knees when I turned 40. I didn't want to get out of bed because surely gravity had taken control of my body and all things that could point the way to Australia, would immediately do so upon getting my ass out of bed. Didn't happen. My husband assures me that I am winning the fight against gravity. I think he's a bit biased and fearful of my response should he tell me otherwise. I have a mirror after all. And all I have to do is look at my boys to let me know that, Yes, indeed, time has passed. And it will continue to do so. They're adults now, and that freaks me out more than gravity. Let us not discuss marriages and grandchildren.

I've learned to accept that I am 41. After all, what can you do? Ask for a recount? Not only do I accept it, I embrace it. While 20-29 is nice, there are just too many questions and insecurities. When you hit the 30-39 stage, you start to become more comfortable with who and what you are. The 40's I believe are more about acceptance. You're more assertive, controlled in yourself. And you let go of those things that no longer matter or have meaning in your life. You also do things you've always wanted to do. When my youngest son James turned 18, he and I went and got tattoos together. Something I've always wanted to do. It's very pretty. A big green eyed butterfly that sits between my shoulder blades. Butterflies represent change. I am certainly doing that.

So, I'm 41. I still have my moments of whimsy. There are certain things I hope never change about me. Like letting my inner punk princess out to play occasionally. Enjoying slamming down shots of tequila with friends and partying like I'm 18. Being secure within myself, and wondering, now when the hell did that happen.

Enjoy being you.