The day I turned forty, I wept. That morning, I had taken extra care with my outfit and makeup and as I stood admiring myself in the professionally-lit full length mirror, my husband walked in, looked at me appreciatively and said; “you look like a forty-year-old woman”. As soon as I heard those words, my heart sunk to my feet. Having known my husband for close to two decades, I could tell his words were meant as a compliment. This awareness, however, did not stop the panic I felt washing over me as I drove to work.
By seven that evening as the office quieted down I started mulling over what it meant to be a forty-year-old woman. I knew my husband and children were waiting to celebrate with me at home, but try as I could, I could not get myself to get out of my office to drive home. At nine, my husband wondering if I was alright, called and I am embarrassed to admit that I took advantage of the concern I could detect in his voice to say I was a little bit held up and would be coming home late. I asked them to have dinner and told them I would wake them up as soon as I got home. I opened a bottle of champagne I had received from a client as a birthday present earlier and sat in my office drinking alone. The more champagne I drank, the sadder I got until I started crying and then weeping uncontrollably.
Forty was such a significant number. I was stunned that I was actually forty years old, which meant I was officially old. As an avid planner, I planned every stage of my life and so far, everything had gone according to that plan. How could I have forgotten to plan for the actual act of becoming older? I felt blindsided that no one ever cared enough to tell me that there would be a time like this when I would feel helpless and lost.
The rest of the night was a blur. I remember going home and telling my husband I had had a hectic day and just wanted to lie down. Somehow, I wanted that day to not have gone the way it did. At the end of Darkness at Noon, Rubashov realizes that he never found what he was looking for, the solution to the question of whose suffering mattered and how to fix it: “The Party had taken all he had to give and never supplied him with the answer.” He concludes that he studied the wrong thing. As a young man, he had intended to focus on astronomy, which he abandoned for the earthly tenets of dialectical materialism. Now, before he falls to the ground, he reflects that there is no escape from the mysteries of the stars.
Like Rubashov, I felt as if I had lost something very important to me and it was too late to fix it. I woke up every morning not believing that this was my new life. And every morning like clockwork, I went through disbelief, shock, pain, confusion and horror. Aging is like an accident or illness; in theory, everyone knows that they are susceptible to it, but no one thinks it will ever happen to them. Now that it had, I realized I couldn’t turn back the clock. As a strategist, I understood that the sensible course was to embrace this new chapter and make the most of it.
Having been brought up in a deeply religious home, I have always found churches safe and comforting. Church is where I leave all of my troubles and seek answers. So it was not a coincidence that I changed my daily routine to add an hour in church. I asked God for guidance and told Him that I felt lost and I didn’t know where to turn next. It was especially calming to see that I wasn’t the only person who found their way into church on weekday afternoons. I had a lot of questions and concerns, but after months of crying and begging, I started feeling this internal peacefulness. Most days I just sat there meditating and left feeling at peace within myself.
The peace that I was finally finding led me to not see this stage of my life as the end, but rather as the beginning of a new life. It was up to me to decide how I was going to live it. For now the most important thing was to continue taking care of myself while creating new dreams, hopes and ambitions that would hopefully lead me to a new life.
I started talking to other women about what I was going through and reading up on those that had already crossed that bridge. Their stories confirmed that my experience was not simply self-indulgence but rather a valid response that many others had experienced.
My friends shared their aging woes and spoke about them with a kind of resignation. Some said aging, apart from the attendant physical changes did not bother them, while others were as bewildered as I was. Did they not have any regret about leaving their youthful years behind? Some just laughed me off while others told me I was just making a big deal about of a process I could not control.
“Accept it, it is here. Regret and fear will cause you more harm than good. Just give yourself grace and lean into your new life,” they counselled.
A common thread that ran through these conversations was acceptance of oneself. My friends had a level of self-assurance I admired and craved. They didn’t pretend to have everything figured out and confessed to experiencing moments of sadness and disappointment. They didn’t pretend to have a magic formula to life. The difference between them and I was that they were not as preoccupied with fixing themselves and everything about their lives as I was. I needed what they had in my own life.
With every insightful conversation and fervent prayer, the poisonous emotions that threatened to overwhelm me increasingly lost their powerful grip over me. I slowly began finding peace within myself and started setting the stage for my rebirth. I realized that more than external markers of success, I wanted to feel at peace within myself.
The day I turned 45, I held a big celebration. In the five years since my meltdown, I had seen life change too many times to release that life can be changed by a conscious act. I had been empowered to let go of so many of my identifiers and my life was lighter. With my good health and the abundance in my life, I had little reason to lament. While I may have lost the physical abilities of my youth, I found solace in the wisdom I had gained, which far outweighed what I had lost.
The day I turned 50, I felt inexplicably grateful. I had come to adore being a woman of that age. This stage, I have come to realise is very freeing. Many of the things that used to weigh on me have vanished. I no longer obsess over things the way I used to. I do not need perfection to be happy. I no longer spend hours planning how I will spend every second of my life. I have learnt to leave room for life to surprise and I my family is happier for it. My days are more joyful because I choose to be in the moment rather than obsessing over another day in the past or future.
This sense of being has opened my eyes and now I see I have everything I need to feel complete. Nothing seems to shake me anymore. What do I really have to worry about? That I don’t have as much as that other person? That I don’t have more? That I’m behind?
I have created space for wonder and gratitude; two emotions that were just abstract sentiments to me a decade ago. As Eartha Kitt said: “When we start to think about how simple life is, and how simple it should be lived, then we begin to realise, I have no problem, I don’t have a real problem. A problem is something you make; life is something you live.”
Life is something you live and I am grateful every day I awake and realise what many incredible things could happen in this day alone. As you go through your day, do not forget to look up, and remember that everything exists in perfect balance.
At 52, I am keenly aware how we waste so many hours going over the variables and worst-case outcomes. But the truth is, I think we sometimes want to give up on seeing goodness because it’s too hard. No one can switch off your light when you are already sitting in the dark, so it becomes easier to sit in worry because then at least you are never shocked or surprised when it turns out exactly as you feared. So, every time anxiety and worry start gnawing at you, ask yourself: What if it all ends up okay?
But most importantly your journey is yours alone; don’t judge yourself too harshly because no one knows what they are doing. We are all putting one foot in front of the other and trying to figure it out day by day.
