I'm turning forty. Yup... Fucking forty! Right? Sounds so ancient to me! And, outside of asking myself how it happened and realizing that all of those "old people" (yeah… they were probably about my age now!) who said it would go by faster and faster with each passing year, I actually feel complete disbelief. How could I, the youngest person I know, be turning forty? And the bigger question is what do I have to show for myself? What have I accomplished? What mark have I left? Answer? More than I thought.
I’ve accomplished more than I could have ever imagined. More than thought I wanted. But, that's the problem with forty. I want more, and I wish I had already done more shit. But, life doesn't always work that way... Because life is a series of setbacks and obstacles and even if some those setbacks and obstacles are welcomed and awesome, they’re still setbacks and can certainly make it difficult to finish "on time". And as a person who's organized and prompt, this forty parameter bullshit pretty much sucks. So you know what? Fuck the parameters! Fuck the measuring sticks! What's with the benchmark bullshit anyway? Seriously, isn’t it time to do away with the saying, “By the time I’m (fill in age), I will have done XYZ.”? Let’s stop attaching an age to our goals! Because when it comes down to it, age has nothing to do with it. Drive and dedication do, and even with the best laid plans, situations change and life continues to move forward no matter how old you are.
I have had many adventures and interesting experiences in my life. And quite frankly, I’ve done much more than I could have anticipated. I'm married, I have two sweet and spunky kids (which I never thought I wanted, and then had to fight to have), I have friendships that go well beyond surface bullshit, I have a successful career, I'm generally happy, so why the fuck do I feel for want? Why do I feel like I should have accomplished or done more with my forty years on this planet? Because I have placed these bullshit parameters around my AGE. That’s why! Something all to common amongst us forty-somethings (omg, I'm a forty-something! Fuuuuuuccckkkkk!).
We live in a society surrounded by both overachieving and underachieving assholes, and I guess I'm at the point in my life where I feel like I have to choose which asshole I want to be. Over or under? And I've never really considered myself either; I just go with the flow and allow myself to be open to possibilities and dreams. But, the thing about dreams is that they really can fucking suck. And they can suck the life out of you. And, you know what? Being a dreamer and having dreams are two totally separate things. Because, I've always been a dreamer. I've always seen the glass as half full even during the most tumultuous times in my life. But, having real solid dreams that you work towards every.single.day? Fucking exhausting. Fucking brutal at times... But, at the same time? These dreams are stomach-churningly (I know it's not a word, but work with me!) exciting. Like, first kiss exciting. So why would I ever want to let go of that feeling? Why wouldn't I want to keep on driving towards them? Why does it have to stop at forty?
It doesn't have to stop. Because if it did, what would I have to look forward to? Plus, I can't be a forty-year-old quitter. Right? I mean, it's tempting to quit sometimes, but I can't. I won't. So, know know what forty? Consider your balls grabbed and your parameters squashed. Fuck you and your dream crushing! ‘Cause this girl? Well, I’m just getting started!