I know the gimmick is that this is a newsletter about midlife that drops midweek, midday but I let myself spend New Year’s Day lounging and bouncing back from holiday travel and resting up for my return to work. So hopefully you don’t mind a little missive from me in your inboxes on a Friday ;)
In the lead up to my 40th birthday many people asked me what I was planning to do to celebrate my entrance into the next decade of life. Special occasion planning is one of those activities I’m envious that people in relationships can delegate to their partner.
I’m superb at celebrating myself in small and large ways in my day-to-day life. I’m no stoic. I’ve got a real “Add the avocado” ethos. A man — who told me he only flies first class — was once stunned at the thousands I’d spent on my sleep setup between my bed frame, mattress, sheets and pillows. But I spend a good bit of every day in that bed (and I am at an age where the wrong mattress can DESTROY YOU) why shouldn’t I invest in my comfort? It’s a small price to pay to begin and end everyday feeling cherished. One to two first class tickets in exchange for years of comforts? If your finances dictate that you must choose between the two, I think the choice is obvious.
On social media, my peer group is hosting massive blowouts for their 40th birthdays. Renting nightclubs or doing ritzy dinners at massively long tables or group trip excursions to far flung locals. Professional photo shoots. Custom dresses. And I’m not judging nan one. I love watching people celebrate themselves and be celebrated by their loved ones (the launch party for my debut book was the fete of the year!). But I just don’t have the desire to put in the effort party planning takes or dealing with the logistics of splitting dining checks for dozens of people or sussing out the etiquette of who’s responsible for picking up what tab at your birthday. Meh. No thank you.
An early January birthday also presents the challenges of having terrible weather, people being socially exhausted from the holiday season and everyone’s a little broke. It feels like a big ask of your community that they do something major just because you’re tossing another log on the fire of life. Besides, wasn’t uprooting and relocating my entire life to Philly basically a gift from my thirtysomething self to my newly forty self? I traveled almost every month for nearly a year, so jet-setting didn’t hold any particular appeal either.
And then, I popped up to NYC to surprise my high school bestie for her 40th birthday. Her husband had invited me. He quietly let me into their hotel room while she was in the bathroom doing her hair. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel the face she made when she heard my voice. We’ve known each other since we were 14. Our friendship is basically older than our tits. The whole weekend I just kept looking at her in wonder, of who she was, of who she’s become and who she’s always been.
There’s this special kind of thrill that comes with witnessing your closest friends reach the same milestone birthday you’re headed toward (or have already reached). This collective — we made it! And mostly intact! To have the longview on someone’s life and know how hard fought each of those passing years were is truly a gift.
So when she insisted we do something for my 40th, I finally relented and planned a small, quick trip to Atlanta (TBD if we actually make it with this winter storm sweeping in…) for just the two of us to catch an art exhibit I’ve been wanting to see. It wasn’t about doing it up for the ‘gram or the high stakes of spending a lot of money curating a once-in-a-lifetime experience — at the heart of all the festivities I’d seen people doing for their fortieth birthdays it was usually about providing an opportunity for those who love you and who have witnessed you an opportunity to celebrate all you are and all you’ve been through. That can be achieved in big ways and small ways. And it doesn’t make it any less special if you’re the one who has to personally extend the invitation for them to do so either.
And it’s with that same energy I announced to my family that I’d like a Le Creuset Dutch Oven for my 40th — please and thank you.
In this era where so many of us are single well into our adulthood and default roles and norms are falling away, it’s really necessary to tell your community how you’d like to be loved because the blueprint doesn’t exist and it’s not always obvious. We’re all busy and stressed but don’t doubt that those who care won’t leap at the chance to show that care if you give them one. Self-love is essential but so is belonging. It can be uncomfortable or embarrassing to be asking for displays of love like some simp — ohmigawd what are you a human being?!! — and, yes, sometimes people will disappoint you but sometimes what will come of it will be so beautiful you will unlock new depths of connection.
That moment my high school bestie stepped out of the bathroom, eyes sparkling and pulled me into a hug was like zipping through time across the 25 years of our friendship, then hand-in-hand stepping toward the next 25 years. My birthday wish is that you may all experience the moments of magic that can only be found in reciprocal care.
Book Wish List + Upcoming Workshops
In related news, I put together a list of 40 books for my 40th birthday, if you’d like to contribute to my TBR list. I did this for my 35th birthday and it was so much fun, so I’m bringing it back for 40!
I have some workshops coming up this year, including my beginners’ memoir workshop with the International Women’s Writers Guild that kicks off next Wednesday. Let me know if you have any questions about any of the classes!
1.8 - 2.19 WEDNESDAYS 6:30P - 8:30P ET (Excluding 1.29)
Gateway to Memoir with International Women’s
Writing Guild (Zoom)
1.26 - 1.16 SUNDAYS 3P - 5P ET
Daddy Dearest: Writing About Our Fathers with Corporeal Writing (Zoom)
4.2 - 5.7 WEDNESDAYS 6:30P - 8:30P ET
Gateway to Memoir II with International Women’s
Writing Guild (Zoom)