Turning 40

I’m so damned excited about turning 40. I do not understand the friends who were morose when it became 2009, because it’s the year of our demise. Those of us belonging to 1969. Nor do I understand the women who are pretending it’s not even happening. I honestly don’t get it.

I think 20s were fun, but looking back a little redundant, boring and well, I was lost. I did have my 1st child in my 20s, but that might have been a mistake. Had I the foresight of my smarter girlfriends I might have waited and the girl might not be so filled with angst. She’s not fully formed yet, so more on that in the years to come. If we can avoid jail, AA and teenaged pregnancy I’ll rethink my 20s and birthing so young.

30s were much better. I figured some things out. I tried some things. I struggled, but I felt that unlike my 20s generational battle, it was my chosen struggle. I worked through things and at the tail end of it I felt like I learned a lot. I also had my 2nd child, nine years later. Oh, my poor first child. I am so much more patient and forgiving, loving and encouraging with this second one. Although, I was probably more fun the first time around.

So 40s? I’m already sensing a return to my fly-in-the-face of anything unconventional me. I am relishing that I have now earned the right, by the simple fact of my age, to wear what I want, think what I want and act like I want and never, never have to bat an eye. I’m 40, dammit. I can do what I please! (I imagine myself thinking this a lot soon)

I also think 40s have a sexiness that no other age can possibly attain. I’ve got the libido of someone half my age and I know how to use it. I can take your husband, girlfriend, lover, crush in a second so don’t mess with me-well, I like to imagine that’s true, although I would never “take” anyone’s anything. I think it’s all those  194os and 1950s movies I’ve watched recently. It’s a power that is indescribable and perhaps a little too intoxicating.

40 is the decade of power for women, the decade that we shine, that we dash and mash, as my 3-yr-old son would say. This is our time. I don’t think the latter decades are anything but magnificent, but I think they’re different.

Of course, this is still six months off, so let’s sit and chit and chit-chat and I’ll let you know in a few months.

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