Forty, Fabulous, and Fresh Out of Patience
Let me start by saying something: I am officially 40 years old. FORTY. FOUR. ZERO.
And you know what? I'm not mad about it. Not even a little bit. Actually, I'm excited.
There's something about entering a new decade that makes you reflect on where you've been, what you've learned, who you've become, and most importantly, what you're no longer willing to entertain.
Now, don't get me wrong. I haven't suddenly transformed into some enlightened woman who has mastered the art of inner peace. I still get irritated. I still overthink things. I still have moments when I question whether I'm handling something the right way.
But what I have noticed is that my patience for certain things has changed. And by changed, I mean it's becoming increasingly selective.
Just a few things I’ve noticed I have significantly less patience for as I've gotten older - cockyness with no receipts, having my feelings dismissed, and lack of self-awareness in others.
Getting older is one thing. Growing is another.
One of the biggest misconceptions about aging is that wisdom automatically comes with it. It does not.
You can be 25 and emotionally mature. You can be 55 and still behave like you're in middle school. Age and growth are not interchangeable, and I'm increasingly convinced that some people missed that memo.
But here's the thing: I've also learned that growth is never comfortable. It’s not supposed to be or else everyone would participate in the growth process.
Sometimes it requires acknowledging that YOU are and were the problem. Or at least part of it.
Sometimes it means revisiting things you've believed your entire life and realizing they no longer serve you. And sometimes it means accepting that the version of yourself who tolerated certain behaviors five years ago is not the same woman standing here today.
One habit I’ve had to unlearn is not letting people feel the full weight of their words and/or behaviors. Historically, I loathe uncomfortable situations and when other people are involved, I (used) to take it upon myself to take the brunt of what comes from those situations. But I’ve had to unlearn that because we’re all adults here and I am only responsible for myself and how I react, just as others are only responsible for their actions and words. Often when you allow others to feel the full weight of themselves, it becomes too heavy and some will start dropping weight while others will continue lugging it around. Either choice is theirs and theirs alone.
My peace is not up for negotiation. I used to think protecting my peace meant avoiding conflict.
Now I'm learning that sometimes protecting your peace requires having the uncomfortable conversations, establishing the boundaries, or saying the things you've been rehearsing in your head for three business days.
And can we talk about boundaries for a second? Because somewhere along the way, people started treating boundaries like personal attacks. They're not.
A boundary isn't necessarily about controlling someone else's behavior. It's about deciding what you're willing to participate in, what you're available for, and how you respond when something doesn't align with your needs or values.
And no, everybody isn't going to like that. That's okay!
One of the most freeing realizations I've had is that someone can be disappointed in my decision without my decision being wrong. WHEW.
Like most women, I have struggled with saying “No.”, I have found myself saying “No”, followed by a full page explanation. My new boundary is just “No.”
I don't have the capacity for everything. And that's okay. Let's discuss capacity. Because as women, especially those of us who are mothers, professionals, partners, daughters, sisters, friends, and everything else under the sun, we're often expected to be available for EVERYBODY.
Emotionally available. Physically available. Mentally available. All. The. Time.
Meanwhile, we're running on fumes and wondering why we're exhausted.
I am learning that just because I can do something doesn't mean I should.
Just because I have the ability to fix a problem doesn't automatically make it my responsibility. And just because someone needs something from me doesn't mean I have the capacity to give it at that moment.
This one has been particularly challenging because I genuinely love showing up for the people I care about. But I've realized that showing up for everyone else while consistently abandoning myself isn't something to celebrate. It's something to examine.
Historically, I am the one that plans all things for the group and does all of the research but lately, I just can’t. I’m tired and have left that jobs to others, when necessary. It felt weird at first but now, I love giving that responsibility to others and stay quiet until and IF I am asked to assist.
I can love you and still tell you no. Now THIS one. I love my people. HARD.
And I don't believe that becoming more protective of my time and energy means becoming cold, distant, or indifferent. Quite the opposite.
I want to continue loving people deeply. I want to show up for my friends and family. I want to celebrate their wins, support them through difficult seasons, and be someone they can count on. But, I also want those relationships to leave room for me to be a whole person. A person with needs, limitations, opinions, and occasionally absolutely no desire to leave the house.
I've also been reflecting on something else lately: receiving love. For a long time, I knew I was loved. Logically, I understood that. But allowing myself to fully receive and accept that love was an entirely different experience.
Turning 40 has brought a beautiful shift in that area of my life. I'm learning that I don't always have to be the person giving, organizing, supporting, or making things happen. Sometimes I can simply allow people to show up for me. And that feels pretty damn good!
My actual 40th birthday was AMAZING. I did all things that I wanted to do, by myself. All of the calls and texts were absolutely incredible. And my 40th birthday party was incredible - my people SHOWED UP and SHOWED OUT. I felt ALL of the love that was there and I finally in a place in my life to receive it without questioning.
Everything doesn't require a reaction. Listen. I have opinions. PLENTY of them.
And while I still believe in speaking up, advocating for myself, and addressing things that matter, I'm learning to distinguish between something that deserves my attention and something that simply annoys me. Because those are two very different things.
Not every comment requires a response. Not every misunderstanding needs a lengthy explanation. Not every person is going to understand my perspective. And sometimes, the most productive thing I can do is let something be.
That doesn't mean suppressing my feelings or pretending something doesn't bother me. It means recognizing that my energy is valuable and deciding how I want to spend it.
My new approach is not to engage when others dismiss my feelings. Now, there are times when that needs to be addressed but specifically with people who consistently dismiss my feelings, I no longer engage. There are certain people in my life that I can’t just cancel, due to circumstances but those people have been the hardest and best lessons for me.
Forty isn't about having it all figured out. Here's what I find funny about turning 40.
There's this unspoken expectation that by this age, you're supposed to have your entire life together. Career? Established. Finances? Perfect. Relationships? Thriving. Emotional maturity? Mastered. Life plan? Color-coded and laminated.
GIRL, BYE!
I'm still learning. Still growing. Still figuring things out. Still making mistakes. Still discovering parts of myself that I didn't even realize existed.
And I actually think that's one of the most beautiful things about this stage of life.
I'm not entering my 40s believing I know everything. I'm entering them knowing myself better than I ever have. There's a difference.
I am excited to see what else I will try in this new decade and what new f*ucks I no longer give.
The Tea is...being forty, fabulous, and fresh out of patience doesn't mean I've stopped caring. It means I'm learning to care more intentionally. About my peace. About my growth. About my relationships. About the way I speak to myself. About the life I'm building and the woman I'm becoming.
I don't want to spend this decade being unnecessarily hardened by life. I want to remain soft where softness serves me, firm where boundaries are needed, and open to experiences that challenge me to grow.
I want to laugh loudly, love deeply, learn continuously, and give myself the same grace I've spent years extending to everyone else. And if that means I have a little less patience for nonsense along the way? Well. I think I'll survive.
I spent a lot of years learning how to show up for everyone else. This decade, I'm learning how to show up for myself without loving anyone else any less.
