At the age of 39, I clearly realized that another year plus to my age wouldn’t change much. It seemed to be just a new number and nothing else. But a couple of weeks after my 40th birthday, it hit me.
At some point, I found myself looking in the mirror, trying to count the wrinkles on my face and new gray hairs. There weren’t that many, but there was still a slight panic growing inside. And then I thought, “No way, it’s time to do something about this!” and started looking for my own ways to cope with the new reality.
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𝐰𝐰𝐰.Richnow05
Yes, I am not a great manager, I haven’t made millions, and I live in a small 2-bedroom apartment. I am an ordinary 40-year-old woman, and I am unlikely to achieve big heights in my career or make a brilliant discovery. My photo will never appear on the cover of a fashion magazine, and I will never star alongside Tom Cruise.
I also ditched the aspirations of my family and didn’t pursue a teaching career after university. Of course, at family gatherings, some of them would want to say something like, “Our daughter is an associate professor in a such and such department.” A school principal would also suit them, or a head teacher, at least. This would prove to them that they didn’t demand of me being a straight-A student at school in vain, I’d finally become the pride of the family.
And the moment I finally allowed myself not to be someone’s pride and not to try to jump over my head, I felt a huge weight off my shoulders. I finally stopped nagging myself for failures and “laziness,” which was actually ordinary fatigue.
That’s where a surprise was waiting for me. It turns out that until I was 40, I had an extremely busy biography. I got higher education, then took advanced training courses, got married, gave birth, moved to another region, got on my feet there, worked in a managerial position, then got divorced, resigned and changed the sphere of activity, acquired a lot of acquaintances from different parts of the country, made a major renovation of my home without taking a single loan. And this all I have done with the eternal habit of berating myself for the fact that I don’t have time for anything and could have done things better.
Since then, I have developed a very useful habit. If by the end of the day I start thinking like, “I haven’t done anything useful again,” I start listing everything I’ve done during the day point by point. In especially severe cases, I sit down at the table and make a list, where I include even little things like heating soup for lunch. And you know, I feel much better after that.
As I approached 40, I had to see for myself how true was the saying about the horse that worked the hardest, but still didn’t become the main animal in the farm. But this horse, meaning me, acquired more than enough health problems. That’s why I made an ironclad rule for myself: no more overwork. If I’m supposed to rest, I switch off the phone, don’t check my emails and generally forget about the boss and coworkers.
My experience proved that there are no irreplaceable people at work, and during vacation nothing falls apart without me. But I recover and work much more productively after a well-deserved holiday, and don’t snap at people around me.
I also made an effort to visit a good clinic for the first time in my life and had a full examination. Yes, it wasn’t cheap, but in the process I found out that I have a deficiency of vitamin D, folic acid and magnesium. The doctor explained to me what dosage I should take to bring my vitamin D, folic acid and magnesium deficiencies back to normal. At the same time, I started having regular massages and doing morning exercises.
As I approached 40, I finally learned to admit that I was angry and got used to saying “no” without effort. Here’s a recent example: I’m sitting at the gynecologist’s office. My appointment is at 9:30 a.m. And then I notice that I’m being scrutinized by some old lady. Suddenly she moves closer to me, leans right up to my ear and starts whispering nervously, “What time is your appointment? Mine is at 10:30. I’m early. I’d rather come in now.”
I ask her if there is something urgent. Nothing, she just arrived early, assuming that her age allows her to go first. I feel that I start to boil. I say, “No, each of us will go at the appointed time.” The lady sulked, sat down in the corner.
It might seem that I, as a good girl, should feel guilty that I offended an elderly person. But then my brain kicks in and quickly puts everything in its place, “No, you’re right. This woman made a mistake and is facing the consequences of her decision. You don’t have to comfort her or give in to her out of guilt.” It sounds a bit snobbish, but that was the train of my thought.
I’m only 40. And even though in the first half of my life I studied hard, experienced a failed marriage and the first difficult years of motherhood, also fearing that I wouldn’t be able to find my calling, now everything is much easier. I am a grown-up woman, an established person, a mother of an almost adult son, an accomplished professional. With this baggage, it will be much easier for me to move forward.
Now, I am not in a hurry to jump into a new relationship, because I understand that it’s better to spend time on an informed choice than getting married to the first man who makes a proposal. Recently, a man from a dating website texted me right off the bat, “I love you, I want to marry you and adopt your child. How old is your little one?” I laugh to myself and honestly answer, “17.”
There is a pause on the other side, then comes something brilliant, “I wouldn’t tell.” Here was a whole garland of “red flags” for me, starting from the attempts of a fast moving relationship to the discussion of age. Naturally, things didn’t work out with him. But I am not upset and believe that I have many wonderful things ahead of me. After all, 40 is a great age.
And here are things that everyone should know before turning 40.
