7 Days of Sex
20s? 30s? No Way! Why Being in My 40s Rocks!
On the eve of my 40th birthday I was happy and excited, relieved almost that I have overcome all the things of my annoying 20s and 30s. I am looking forward to what the years have in store, things look exciting from where I stand.
But when people would find out about the birthday coming up, they would reply with a slightly surprised and overly polite, “Wow! Well, you sure don’t look it!” I’m not exactly what “it” is supposed to look like, but I bet it something like run down, tired, you know, old. Which is funny considering that people are living a lot longer these days and “being old” is more of a state of mind than an actual age.
Truth is, I like being 40. When I think about my 20s chills come over me, like recalling a bad memory.
I know that 20-year-olds would think I am crazy and just sound like an old lady saying this, but the 20s sucked.
I mean, yeah, you had the body, the sex drive, the energy, the optimism, and all that time to be stupid and make mistakes and start over. And because when you’re 20 it seems you have nothing but time, making it easier to think you can afford to date the loser and then spend nights upon nights crying over him, waste your money on silly things that serve more to impress others than any other significant purpose. Get to be careless and carefree, cause, whatever, you might never see these people again and behave recklessly and carelessly because, well, “you are so young still!”
Then the 30s come and suddenly, you’re not so cute anymore. Nobody has patience for your carefree mentality and unfocused ways. If you’re a woman, society starts dangling that little baby clock in your face and tick-tock, you’re on your way to finding a husband. So you relinquish the slutty dresses and the habit of dancing on tables for shots (What? You didn’t do that?) to instead become a serious professional with huge goals, and a future wife and mother. No time for personal dreams, wasting time is too risky. Gotta make that promotion, gotta hook that guy, get that house and have those babies! You’re an adult now!
But then if you’re lucky, by 40 you learn to relax. Whether you found the guy, had the baby or not, something about turning 40 resembles for me a bit of the rebellion of the 20s, but without anything to prove and so little concern to please others, other then yourself and your spirit.
I’m so much more awesome now. And this is why:
40-year-old me would never give that loser, who made me cry and cry, the time of day, even before we got to 2nd base. I am so confident in what I accept and what I would tolerate from anyone.
40-year-old me would never wear those heels all night to go clubbing. Actually, 40 year old me does not even go clubbing really because I can come up with just as much fun and dance (and drinks) without the $25 cover at the door.
40-year-old me is not second guessing herself and morphing herself to fit what her boss, her friends, her parents, her neighbors, or anyone says she should be.
40-year-old me is able to trust more, love deeper, and give more openly than I ever did before.
40-year-old me is not taking anything for granted – not time, not her family, not herself.
40-year-old me has found it easier to be herself, whatever shape she has taken. She has also learned that being sexy is not what she wears or what she looks like, but how she feels. Yes, I have my down days, but the heaviness of those brief moments don’t compare to what they used to be in my younger years.
Oh my darling 20 and 30 year olds, you have no idea how much better and easier it is on this side. You might see my boast of spontaneity as suffering from a midlife crisis, you might not think my ideas and likes, friends and hobbies are all that cool, but the best thing about being 40 is that what other people think is what drives me anymore. Nothing is more freeing.
My feet are firmly grounded and I am as comfortable as I have ever been in my own skin.
How old you act, even how old you feel is up to you. There are no tears being shed over the passing of my 20s and 30s. Good riddance! For me, the 40s have been the best yet.