Forty

A few days ago, I noticed that my husband was looking rather sad. I asked him why.

He said he was thinking about my 40^th birthday party. However, there’s one thing that’s preventing him from making some grand plans: the COVID-19 pandemic restrictions.

He was so worried that we’d be stuck at home on New Year’s Day.

I chuckled. I told him that I was not really keen on having a big party, that it’s okay to be stuck at home with him on my birthday. Like, really. It was not a big deal.

Forty! Gosh, am I really turning forty? Forty does sound like an old number, but I feel fine. I may have some wrinkles and white hairs now but I don’t really feel “that” old.

But at the moment, I got myself thinking about my mother. I wonder what she had felt or thought when she turned forty.

I vaguely remember my mother’s 40^th birthday. I was only fourteen then. When she turned forty, she was married with six kids. She was a stay-at-home mom, and we were poor and struggling. She had been through a lot – she had some ups and a million downs, and my heart aches just thinking about that.

If there’s one thing that my mother and I have in common, it is that we both had some really good ‘ups’ and plenty of ugly ‘downs’.

Despite of it all, we’re both stubborn, and we don’t easily give up.

So back to being forty.

There is a saying that goes like this: Life begins at forty.

Generally, people think they can conveniently waste their younger years away hoping that they have enough time to make things right in the future. Others believe that you have to work hard so that by the time you are forty, you have enough experience and skill to do what you want to do with your life.

As I approach forty, I find myself looking at life slightly differently. I can now anticipate that this represents the halfway point in my life.

I guess the most pressing question now is: Do I really want the second half of my life to be like the first?

Having said that, I realized that, back then, I had never really thought about the kind of life I wanted for myself. Sure, I had goals and dreams. I remember imagining myself as a successful lawyer and entrepreneur – and maybe married with four adorable kids. These little moments of musings made me smile and gave me some much-needed hope during the darkest times of my life.

But life didn’t turn out the way I had originally envisioned it to be. I was busy juggling school, work, family and community commitments. I literally spent the last 39 years just trying to do what was in front of me as well as I could. I was always on survival mode. I worked my ass off and ran like a mad, headless chicken.

Back then, I had so much stuff on my plate. A lot of things, responsibilities and people clamored for my attention. I never had time to think about what I’d like the rest of my life to look like.  

But today, I realized that I had unconsciously and consistently put my happiness on the back burner to prioritize my family and others.

As I quietly process this sudden flood of emotions – anger, grief, regret, loss, self-pity, sadness – I came to realize that there’s a lonely, wounded inner child that I have betrayed and neglected for a long time.

That child is me.

At that moment, I saw my adult self giving my inner child a loving hug she so desperately needed all these years.

“I love you, and you’re safe with me now.”

I am not looking forward to a big birthday party.

Rather, I am looking forward to a happy, healed forty-year-old me – a person who knows her worth, embraces her imperfections, protects her peace and boundaries, and, most importantly, is overflowing with self-love and love for others.

Life truly begins at forty.