40 AF

March 30, 2021 samantha perkins

Today is my 40th birthday. When I was young, my parents owned a balloon shop. When people turned 40 their friends and family members would buy a bunch of black balloons to decorate their yard. They would stick signs in the grass that said “Over the Hill” and “Lordy Lordy Look Who’s Forty.” I thought that the people at the receiving end of these balloons and signs were old. It made perfect sense that they were, in fact, over the hill.

But today, as I sit here looking in my yard (which luckily is not covered in black balloons) “Over the Hill” means something entirely different. Maybe it never meant what I thought. Maybe it wasn’t a metaphor for “past one’s prime” or that life is half over. Maybe, instead, it meant exactly what it says. You are actually over the f’ing hill.

No more struggling up this giant mountain carrying a load of baggage on my back. No longer pulling and pushing with all my might to try to be the person that the world is asking of me. No more difficult steps upward while peering at the top wondering if I’ll ever make it or what it’s like to be there. No more worrying that it’s too far to go back and too far to move forward.

There have been many hills to climb for me these past few years. The getting sober hill. The anxiety hill. The living life and parenting two young children in the middle of a pandemic hill. The writing a book hill. With each climb, I held a false promise that once I got to the top I would be good, happy, resolved, or at ease. But what I learned is that the top of these hills was only the beginning. I didn’t get to ride out the rest of my days rolling down the grass of green pastures. Instead, I only built up more muscles and strength for the next big climb.

My twenty-year-old self walked around at the bottom of the hill. I didn’t think I’d ever have to really do the climb. I kept putting things off, avoiding it, and trying to find other ways to live that wouldn’t be as strenuous and difficult. I didn’t think about my older self and put no effort into making things easier for her. I wore her lungs down with smoking and her skin down with sun tan oil. I spent all of her money buying strangers shots at the bar and put no effort into her education. I made a million mistakes. Some that I can see in my aging fine lines and gray hair. I figured by the time I was 40, it wouldn’t matter anyway, I would be old.

To some, maybe I am old. My kids think I’m old. Their babysitters probably think I’m really really old. The 20 something girl at my favorite coffee shop thinks I’m old. Who orders decaf because they’ve already “had too much?” Old people. I’m okay with that.

To others, 40 seems insanely young. My lack of experience and life knowledge might make this post sound as if it’s written by a toddler. I’ve got so many more hills to climb, lessons to learn, skills to gain before I can even think that I’ve in some way earned the right to put down my pack and start heading downward. I don’t know how to do my taxes and I literally had to watch a youtube video to learn how to properly load my dishwasher. I still cry when someone is mad at me.

Regardless of what others might think, today I feel like I’m being given a rite of passage to be over the hill. I’ve been fortunate enough to make it this long (which I don’t take for granted). I’ve learned a few lessons the hard way. I’ve given up trying to find ways to get around the hill and have leaned into walking up it. I take nice long breaks when I need them and I wander off a lot. I still look for shortcuts and I get lost all of the time. Maybe from here on out it won’t seem so steep. Just a nice ascending path with tiny bumps and crevices to get over. Nothing will seem as monumental as it did when I was so young and inexperienced. I’ve got the right equipment and tools now. I know myself better. I understand my limits and my strengths. Maybe I can even enjoy myself a bit along the way.

I’m proud to be 40. Happy even, to be standing on the top looking back down at what I’ve climbed so far. Living life takes guts. Fully leaning into all of the hard things there are in this world and choosing to go on anyway is something worth celebrating.

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