On the surface, I was pretty happy to turn 40 this last month. All my friends are 40, it’s a cool round number inviting in a new decade, and it feels like a life milestone. I have some awesome people in my life that made the day and even week of my birthday so special. Hands down, best birthday yet.
Underneath, there were nerves and my old frenemy Anxiety lurking around, waiting for inopportune moments to show up and ruin the party. For months before the big day, I critiqued many of my life choices to this point and created a mental to-do list to achieve before my birthday rolled around. It was self sabotage, not an unfamiliar concept for me, rooted in insecurity that frankly, I feel I am just too old for. There were deadlines and daydreams of what I would get a handle on in my life. All of it, exhausting.
In hindsight, (the best way to actually know what the hell was going on in my brain at the time), I know I was really desperate to find some control in a year that kicked all of our asses. 2020 left a mark on all of us, and for those of us that are parents, and teachers, or other service professions, it was especially daunting as we also attempted to shoulder the hurt for others that we love and wanted to keep safe.
So, in the end 40 came and went, and I haven’t figured it all out yet. But, I really have to acknowledge that even in the drudgery of day to day, and even when it seems like we are standing still, or up to our knees in muck, walking at a snail’s pace, there is change that sneaks up to surprise us. I am changed. I’ve changed. The small tasks and efforts that I have set five or ten minutes aside for, have created something new for me.
I am a 40 year old . . . surgin’…. surging. I don’t know who I think I am. Obviously that ‘g’ is essential there, but you see what I’m doing with that title. Always trying to be cute. And I can’t let it go, sorry, not sorry. Anyway, I’m doing this for example. Maybe five people read what I have to say, but that’s fine for now. I need to do this as I venture out and ask people to ask me to write for them. I worked on my photography business as well this year. I took photos of people and families and proved to myself mostly (because the rest of you told me to do it for a long time already) that I am creative and worth it. I grew my hair out to it’s natural silver goddess state for crying out loud! I own my freaking natural hair. And I like it, and I don’t apologize for it. It doesn’t make me a hero and it doesn’t make me brave. I get those comments sometimes. What it does make me, in my view, is authentic to myself. It’s what I wanted to do and I did it.
I’m doing the things. I’m doing the work. For me and for my family and for my vision of what I want. Creativity doesn’t go away when you don’t make time for it. It just suffocates inside. I’m finally letting mine out for some fresh air. Cheers to 40, and to the next decade and all of the surprises still to come. Cheers to creative minds and spirits and surgin’ forward when it’s much easier to stay quiet. Cheers to wild hearts and souls that find a way.
Rachael Coughlin 