I’m not ready

not readyOnce again another birthday arrives without balloons or fan-fare and I’m realizing that the older I get, the more contemplative I become.

Today,  I’m 39.

No Really.  Not like “39” forever but this is the 39th birthday to be celebrated.

I’m nowhere near where I thought I’d be by now. 

The little girl I once was assumed that by now I’d have my picture perfect family and we would send Christmas cards out that would make others jealous.  There we would stand in front of the hearth with smiles all around and love exuding from the children’s angelic faces while my husband would gaze upon me with adoration.

I imagined our Norman Rockwell home complete with Sunday dinners that would make Ina Garten’s mouth water, surrounded by family and friends and laughter.  I would be the perfect hostess and everyone would clamor to be a part of the weekly tradition.

I imagined that I would only work to pass the time and have a job that allowed me to catch every sporting event and play that my children would be in.  I’d greet them at the door after school with milk and cookies and they would invite their friends over because we would be the cool house.

Then I turned 29.

At 29 I was going through my divorce and trying to wrap my head around the idea that every image of what perfection looked like was shattered.  So much for the idealized version of adult hood.  I must have missed the fine print on this whole growing up thing.

By the time my 30th birthday rolled around, I was ecstatic to put the 20’s behind me, thankful that I was not only older but wiser than I was 12 months prior.

There was a part of me that started to envision what the future looked like though, although a bit more realistic than when I was a child.  I figured that I’d find someone to build a life with (nope.  That didn’t happen) and focus on my career (nope… didn’t do that either).  I’d be the best damn cheerleader my kids could hope for (check) and build some amazing friendships (check check).  I’d finally reach some goals I set for myself and expand my horizons with travel and classes and hobbies and even finish my degree…


Today I’m 39.  Unlike a decade ago, I’m not sure I’m quite ready to put this one behind me.  I still have a lot to do before I feel like I’m an adult and isn’t that what 40 means?

I’m nowhere near where I thought I’d be by now.  The flip side though is that I’m so much more than the 29 year old version of me ever dreamed possible.

I never believed that I could be this strong.  Granted, I’ve had to be strong for some pretty suck-tastic reasons but my strength exceeds my own expectations.

I never believed that friendships could be this fulfilling and I’m honored to share my time with those I hold most dear.

I never considered that I’d somehow find “my voice” or that I’d consider myself a writer and yet that’s exactly how I see myself.   

At 29, I had no concept of confidence and self esteem and while there are still the “socially awkward moments” that grip me with panic and dread, those are fewer and father between.

So as I embark on this last year of a remarkable decade, I’m tossing out all the ideas of where I should be.

I’m going to try to embrace each day as it arrives without a preconceived notion of where I’ll be this time next year.

Maybe I’ll work out more and fit back into the jeans I wore in high school…. Or maybe I’ll just perfect the art of feeling sexy in my own skin without focusing on the flaws that make me cringe.

Maybe I’ll meet someone and develop a romantic relationship… Or maybe I’ll continue to enjoy the company of friends and family and continue to appreciate just how full my life is.

Maybe I’ll expand my professional horizons… Or maybe I’ll relish in a job that I’ve had for a decade and doesn’t stress me out because I’m confident in my abilities.

I know I’ll hang on to some things I’ve picked up over the last few years – my fierce loyalty and devotion to those who matter… the best cheerleader and supporter my kids will ever know… writer of words… feeler of feels – but other than that, who knows what 40 will bring.  But maybe then I will be ready to move into the next decade without fear because things just keep getting better.





  1. I don’t know when you become an adult, but I’m 45 and not there yet.

  2. You will rock your 40s just like you rock everything else. I love you, birthday girl.

    P.S. In two weeks, I officially enter the mid-40s. 🙂

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