I turn 40 this year.
What a complete head wreck that is.
How did this happen to me? I am sure that the last time I looked, I was 28, living in Maida Vale and still shaving my legs every day.
I worked for an advertising agency, straightened my hair and wore heels. Not just when I got to the office either – I actually wore them for the whole commute DOOR.TO.DOOR.
Yes, I was hardcore like that.
I went out drinking in Soho 3 or 4 nights a week. I travelled everywhere by black cab. I functioned brilliantly on 5 hours sleep a night.
But that was when my hangovers only lasted half a day, not half a week.
Life was bloody fabulous. I thought that I was pretty fabulous back then too, but I was also pretty drunk for most of it…
I talk about it like it was yesterday but that is only because it still feels like it was.
But the cold, hard truth of it is that come end of August this year, I will be closer to 50 than I will be to 30.
I will be closer to 60 than I will be to 20.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining about my lot in life.
I am married to the most wonderful man, who makes me very happy. We have the most wonderful son, who makes us both even happier. I can not think of any other way I would rather have spent my 30’s. That side of my life is lovely and I would not change one single moment of it.
But, 40. FORTY.
It sounds so… old.
Zachy will turn 4 the day before I turn 4-0. He is due to start school in September. Quite a milestone year for us both.
I decided that I would probably not throw a big enormous party to celebrate. Too many people on holiday, not enough confidence in my own crowd pulling power, and no where near enough staying power past 9pm.
However, when I mentioned this to a few of my very favourite people, they told me in no uncertain terms that this was simply not acceptable.
Then today I received an email from a local venue, confirming that my deposit had been paid for a joint 4th/40th birthday celebration in August.
Courtesy of the Greek God(zilla) of course. Who knows me well enough to know how much I would have regretted a small intimate soiree with just us three.
My fabulous side may have been well hidden for a while, but my husband obviously still sees a glimmer of it in me somewhere.
So, I have decided that I am going to turn 40 in style. I am going to shave my legs, pluck my face and smooth the GHDs through my hair. I am going to have a party! Albeit a joint one with a 4-year old, but that’s as rock and roll as we get these days.
In the last decade, I met the man who would become my husband, we got engaged in sunny Barbados, had a beautiful baby boy together and on the 4th anniversary of our first date, we had our perfect wedding.
I started a job that I still like and write a blog that I love.
I have made some incredible new friends *waves hello*.
We have a roof over our heads and a subscription to The Wine Society.
I am going to be 40!