Because apparently starting over at 40 doesn’t come with an instruction manual. Who knew?

So, I turned 40.

And you know what my first thought was?

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Not because I’m afraid of getting older. Not because I suddenly discovered wrinkles or started making noises every time I stood up. (Although, seriously, when did THAT start?)

Nope.

I was frustrated.

Because somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that 40 was the magical age when you officially became an adult.

Like, a REAL adult.

The kind who owns a house, has a career, knows what they’re doing with their money, and has a five-year plan that doesn’t involve just trying to survive until Friday.

I thought I’d be married. Settled. Financially stable. Comfortable.

I thought I’d have my shit together.

Spoiler alert: I do not, in fact, have my shit together.

And apparently, that’s what this era is all about.

Forty Was Supposed to Be a Big Deal

Can we talk about birthdays for a second?

Because I really thought someone in my life was going to make a huge deal out of my 40th.

I mean, it’s FORTY.

The big 4-0. A milestone. Halfway to 80, if we’re being optimistic.

I wasn’t necessarily expecting a surprise trip to Bora Bora or a marching band in my driveway. But I wanted to feel celebrated.

Like someone looked at me and thought, Hey, you’ve made it through 40 years of life. That’s pretty damn amazing.

Instead?

It was disappointing.

And I think that disappointment went deeper than just a birthday.

Because when you’ve spent so much of your life showing up for everyone else, sometimes you secretly hope someone will show up for you in the same way.

That realization stung.

But it also got me thinking about something I probably should have figured out a long time ago.

Maybe it’s time I start making a big deal out of myself.

Not in an obnoxious, look-at-me kind of way.

In a my life matters too kind of way.

And Then Life Said, “Hold My Beer”

Here’s the funny thing about turning 40.

I thought my life would finally settle down.

Instead, someone apparently grabbed the snow globe that is my existence and shook the absolute hell out of it.

In the six months since turning 40, everything has changed.

For the first time in my adult life, I’m unemployed.

I’m going back to school to pursue my master’s degree.

My son got married.

I’m a grandmother.

And my love life? Oh, honey. That’s a whole series of blog posts waiting to happen.

Let’s just say a polyamorous relationship unexpectedly led me to the love of my life.

Didn’t have THAT on my bingo card.

Now I’m navigating the possibility of moving in with my boyfriend, becoming a stepmom, and being welcomed into an incredible family.

And here’s the real plot twist.

I might actually want to get married.

Me.

The woman who had pretty much given up on that whole idea.

Apparently, we’re just rewriting the entire script at this point.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out a new career, survive on unemployment, juggle family responsibilities, make money stretch, and find legitimate side hustles that don’t involve selling my soul or joining someone’s pyramid scheme.

Oh, and did I mention graduate school?

Because apparently I looked at everything happening in my life and thought, You know what would make this more interesting? Homework.

Welcome to My “Why the Hell Not” Era

I’ve spent a whole lot of my life being a people pleaser.

The dependable one.

The one who figures it out.

The one who makes things work.

The one who puts everyone else’s needs ahead of her own.

And you know what?

I’m tired.

I’m tired of being a doormat.

I’m tired of worrying about what everyone thinks.

I’m tired of waiting for the perfect time to do something for myself.

Because here’s what I’m finally realizing:

There is no perfect time.

There will always be bills. Responsibilities. Kids. Family. Work. Something that needs fixing. Something that needs paying for.

If I keep waiting until everything is perfectly lined up, I’ll be 80 years old still waiting for permission to live my own damn life.

So why not now?

Why not 40?

Why not go back to school?

Why not fall ridiculously in love?

Why not start a blog?

Why not try that side hustle?

Why not figure out who I actually am when I’m not busy being everything everybody else needs?

Welcome to my why-the-hell-not era.

Population: Me.

And hopefully a few of you.

Also, Can We Talk About Money?

Because starting over at 40 sounds incredibly empowering until you remember that the electric company does not accept personal growth as payment.

I’m trying to build a life I genuinely love while also figuring out how to afford that life.

And I’m not going to pretend that part is glamorous.

There will be budgeting.

There will be bargain hunting.

There will be DIY projects that either turn out amazing or end with me questioning every decision that led me there.

And there will absolutely be dupes.

Because let me tell you something about me.

If you want it, there’s a cheaper dupe for it. Even if it takes me HOURS to find it.

I refuse to believe we have to spend a fortune to have nice things.

Want the expensive-looking shoes? Let’s find them cheaper.

Want to decorate your house? Let’s see what we can make ourselves.

Want to start a new hobby without spending your entire paycheck? I’m your girl.

I will happily spend three hours researching how to save twelve dollars.

Is that always a reasonable use of my time?

Absolutely not.

Am I going to stop?

Also absolutely not.

So What Exactly Is This Blog?

Great question.

I’m still figuring that out, too.

See a theme here?

This isn’t going to be one of those perfectly curated lifestyle blogs where every morning starts with a green smoothie, a sunrise yoga session, and a spotless kitchen.

If that’s what you’re looking for, you may have taken a wrong turn somewhere on the internet.

This is real life.

The messy, funny, frustrating, beautiful, occasionally WTF version.

We’re going to talk about starting over, going back to school, career changes, relationships, family, money, side hustles, DIY projects, and finding deals that make us feel like we’ve somehow beaten the system.

Some days I’ll have genuinely useful advice.

Other days, I’ll be sharing exactly what NOT to do because I already did it and learned the hard way.

You’re welcome.

And somewhere in all of that, I’m hoping to figure out who I am in this chapter of my life.

Not just as a mom.

Not just as a grandmother.

Not just as someone’s girlfriend or future stepmom.

But as me.

Whoever the hell she turns out to be.

Maybe None of Us Actually Know What We’re Doing

Here’s the thing I’ve started to realize.

I can’t possibly be the only 40-year-old walking around wondering when the adults are going to show up and take charge.

Maybe we’re all just winging it.

Maybe the woman who looks like she has everything together is also sitting in her car wondering how she’s going to pay her bills.

Maybe the mom who seems to handle everything effortlessly is one minor inconvenience away from crying in the grocery store parking lot.

Maybe the woman navigating perimenopause, career changes, relationships, and a body that suddenly has its own opinions is wondering what the hell happened to the life she thought she’d have.

And maybe we all feel a little less alone when someone finally admits it out loud.

That’s what I want this space to be.

A place for the tired mom.

The broke 40-something.

The single parent who has spent years being the only person available to tag in.

The woman starting over when she thought she’d already be settled.

The woman who wants more out of life but isn’t entirely sure what more looks like yet.

I want more love.

More happiness.

More genuine comfort.

More moments when I feel completely, unapologetically myself.

And maybe, just maybe, we can help each other get there.

Same Girl. Different Era.

Six months into being 40, and I still spend a ridiculous amount of time wondering what the hell I’m doing with my life.

But I’m starting to think that’s okay.

Maybe adulthood isn’t about having all the answers.

Maybe it’s about learning how to ask better questions.

Maybe it’s about giving yourself permission to change your mind, start over, make mistakes, fall in love, try something new, and occasionally make an absolute mess of things.

And maybe figuring it out along the way is enough.

So here’s to the career changes, the unexpected love stories, the questionable DIY projects, the bargain finds, the late-night homework, and the moments when we wonder how the hell we ended up here.

Here’s to making 40 the right time instead of waiting for the right time.

Here’s to finally living for ourselves.

And here’s to figuring it out, one chaotic, beautiful, ridiculous era at a time.

I’m glad you’re here.

Now tell me something.

What era are YOU in right now?

Because whether you’re in your starting-over era, your healing era, your broke-but-trying era, or your leave-me-the-hell-alone era…

Pull up a chair.

We’ve got some figuring out to do. 🩷

New around here? Come get to know me a little better and find out what My Figuring-It-Out Era is all about.