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Thursday Thoughts
I turned 40 in May.
I also lost my job, took a trip to Hawaii, and discovered a new batch of demons to deal with.
It’s been quite the adventure, and I’m already exhausted.
For some reason, I thought turning 40 would feel differently than all my other birthdays, but it didn’t. Not really. There was a lot of the kind of milestone fanfare one might expect, complete with all the drama and anxiety those sorts of celebrations create, but not much of an internal shift.
There wasn’t an Ah-Ha! moment of clarity or a settling of my soul.
I’m still just…me.
I’m not sure what I expected; by now, I have learned the magic of life is reserved for those who can pay for it, but I hoped.
I hoped I would wake up to the sound of waves crashing against the sands of my childhood, and I would feel free. I hoped that some spiritual event would rock my foundational self and reveal the next stretch of the journey.
I hoped to feel complete and safe and loved as the adult I am and not the child I seem to perpetually embody.
Instead, I feel let down. Disappointed. Hurt by those who claim to care for me.
In the time since we returned from Hawaii, well over a month now, I haven’t done much other than apply for jobs and cry on the couch a lot.
As my 30’s came to a close, I had this idea that the manner in which I welcomed this new decade would set the tone for the years to come.
At this point, I sincerely hope that won’t be the case.
