What I Learned When I Let Go of Everything

I turned 40 this month.

A lot of my friends are stressing about turning 40, feeling like it’s the end of youth, fun, joy, attractiveness, life as we know it.

But when I think back to where I was at 20, at 30, I actually feel grateful about 40, excited about what I hope to experience in the next few decades.

At 20, I cared a ton about what people thought of me. I worried about saying the wrong thing, of feeling stupid or lame. I feared that having feelings made me weak, so I kept most of them inside, stuffing them down with bagels and peanut butter.

Now I cherish the opportunity to feel vulnerable, to share and express myself, even if it means expressing insecurity. The reality is that I rarely feel insecure, and when I do, I know it’s an opportunity for growth. I trust that the people with whom I share my feelings are people who I want to really know me, to see me -- not some version of me, some persona that I deem acceptable. But the real me. I love and honor my true friends enough to trust them with who I really am, and I hold their sharing and vulnerability sacred, so that when they have moments of insecurity, I can honor that space to allow for their growth as well.

At 20, I was still trying to starve myself into thinness, feeling like a failure when I inevitably binged on whatever was available. At 30, I was trying to appreciate my body -- trying to love the belly that had stretched to make room for my son, my breasts for feeding and nurturing a baby, my thighs for carrying me the distances I needed to go. But it felt patronizing, like I only loved my body for the good it did for me, trying to mentally bypass what I still saw as “flaws.” At 40, my body is “flawed” by media’s standards. My belly is stretchy. My thighs are jiggly and I have my fair share of cellulite. But somehow, I love it all anyway. I love that my body has withstood my years of abuse and still managed to come through for me. I’m healthy. I wake up feeling good every morning. One day, I may not feel so spry and limber. So I will appreciate that I do, and find ways to nurture and treat my body lovingly every day and honor it as my home for this lifetime.

At 20, I thought I knew everything there was to know. I liked being an expert in things. I liked having conversations that felt important, where I could share what I knew. I prided myself on being smart, maybe even an intellectual. Now, I’d rather listen. I still love conversation, but it feels more important to have an energetic exchange with someone. I’d rather feel into what someone is really saying, the meaning behind their words. I want to have a sense of their hopes and dreams.

At 30, I knew exactly what I wanted. And I had exactly what I wanted. I had opened my wellness center, was a homeowner in a cool city (Yeah, Hoboken!), had a successful career as an acupuncturist/ healer, was happily married and on my way to having my 2nd child. I had everything that had been sold to me as “necessary” for the path to happiness. Yet, I was not content. I felt like something was missing.

When my husband was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease, we decided to move across the country. It was “for him,” but really, I knew it was “for me,” too. Somehow I knew that what was missing from my “perfect” life was a connection to the me that had been lost in all the striving. I gave up everything: my home, my proximity to friends and family, my business, the career I had spent 10+ years establishing, which had come to include my sense of success. That life somehow felt “complete” in what it was, and I felt okay with that not being “it” for the rest of my life.

At 40, I know I’m not where I would have been had I stayed in NY.  I don’t feel financially “successful.” I don’t have a thriving metropolitan wellness center where everyone in the city has heard of me. I don’t know what I want to do with the “rest of my life”. And I’m so grateful for that. I’m grateful that my life doesn’t feel “complete.” That I know there’s more, and that I’m not sure what that “more” is. I love that there are possibilities and unknowns and opportunities to take chances and feel vulnerable. It leaves me open and encourages me to experience gratitude for all that I have, and to learn to trust the unknown.

I used to think knowing exactly what I wanted and then doing what I had to do to make it happen was what would lead to fulfillment and happiness. Now I feel more secure in the trust that the magic lies in the unknown. There are no definites. All I know is that I have a chance every day to feel and breathe and experience and share. I feel more connected to the people in my life than to the things I have or the success I have achieved, and that connection feels like the biggest success in my life. It’s the space in which I can feel most content in that it represents me --  not my career or my achievements, but ME. And I guess, what feels most important, at 40, is the belief that showing up fully and authentically is our gift to the world. And our gift to ourselves.

So I’m feeling grateful, this 40th birthday, that I have had the time and space to really explore and understand and know this being that is me. And that, in doing so, I can have relationships that fill my heart and soul. That feels like to most profound birthday gift… and so I feel full.