Thoughts on Turning 40

I am middle aged

I turned 40 today. Like many a millennial, I find this reality a bit difficult to process, even as my hair turns grey. Up until perhaps quite recently, my face had this neotenous quality to it. My mom still calls me “kiddo.” No matter my actual age, the world treated me like a young adult, prone to getting carded. For a lot of my 30s, I could pass for younger, but eventually we all hit the wall. My wife posted a picture of me and I had the uncanny realization that I was the middle aged-looking man looking back at myself.

I can’t tell if we’re the first generational cohort to have this age incongruity issue, but a common refrain I hear from fellow millennials is of never truly feeling like a grown up. This broadly experienced sentiment probably has something to do with the millennial advent of “adulting” as a term. Well, I don’t know if we came up with it, but we might as well have. I’m ashamed its ours, but the shoe fits.

In some ways, I’ve acted my age (getting married, having kids). In other ways, I have not (doing a fun job that indulges a perpetual state of adolescence). I hope the latter choice at least forestalls the more acute depravities of a midlife crisis. I can’t say I chose the safe route in life. I can’t feel any resentment over having walled myself into a cubicle instead of chasing a dream. Though, on my journey, I’ve come to have great respect for those who do forgo dreams in favor of practicality. I get emotional when watching Homer Simpson sacrifice for his family in the “Don’t Forget, You’re Here Forever” scene.

As I’ve gotten older, I, proprietor of a website called House of STRAUSS, lead a life increasingly less about myself. That’s somehow both a source of immense day to day pressure and broader existential relief. I feel a lot more anxiety about letting my family down and a lot less anxiety over what other people think about me.

It’s a good exchange on balance, actually, and it takes some of the sting away from getting older. So does this. My wife was thoughtful enough to gift me with a video of friends wishing me a happy birthday. We’re not always so aware of just how many people we form meaningful connections with over the years, similar to how we’re not so cognizant of just how much material stuff we accumulate. Given the opportunity to step back and take stock, I was thankful to be this old and getting older. It’s the process by which we come to know everyone we love. Earnestly pining to be young again is almost like rejecting what you meant to everyone else, and what they meant to you. It’s good to be 40. It will be better to be even older.