Have you ever had a birthday that didn’t feel like a celebration but more like a performance review
Have you ever looked at your life and thought, is this it or did I miss something important
Have you ever smiled on the outside while quietly panicking on the inside because the number just keeps getting bigger
If so, welcome to turning forty.
Today, I turned the big 4-0. And before you picture balloons, cake, and confidence, let me be honest. Before I hit this huge number, I was depressed. Not the dramatic, crying-on-the-floor kind. The quiet kind. The kind where fear sits next to you on the couch, eats your snacks, and whispers, you should be further by now.
Fear has always had a grip on me. Fear of failing. Fear of succeeding. Fear of being seen. Fear of being judged. Fear of doing the thing and still not being enough. And if I am really honest, that fear is one of the biggest reasons I never excelled to the potential I know I have inside of me.
As I have been rebranding myself and getting more serious about my life and my work, I had a moment that felt like getting emotionally slapped by reality. I realized that if I had taken my branding seriously years ago, if I had believed in myself earlier, I would probably be so much further in life right now.
And that realization hurt.
It sent me straight into a spiral of comparing timelines, replaying missed opportunities, and mentally listing all the moments I should have tried harder, shown up bigger, or stopped doubting myself. Depression crept in quietly and sat heavy on my chest. I started telling myself stories like, you wasted time, you missed your moment, you should have known better.
Turning forty felt less like a birthday and more like a scoreboard I was losing.
But then something shifted.
I realized something that sounds simple but feels revolutionary when you actually believe it. Even though I feel old. Even though I know I missed opportunities. Even though fear delayed me. It is still not too late.
The clock did not run out. God did not stop working. My purpose did not expire because I hit a certain age.
My biggest battle has never been talent or opportunity. It has always been believing in myself.
I am incredible at cheering other people on. I will hype you up, clap for you, cry for you, celebrate you like you just won an Olympic gold medal. I love seeing other people shine. It fills me up in a way that is deeply genuine.
But when it comes to me, standing in the spotlight feels uncomfortable. Heavy. Exposing. It is hard to be the one who has to shine when your inner voice keeps asking, who do you think you are.
That is the mentality I am actively fighting.
And let me tell you, that fight is loud.
My husband has been coaching me through this season, and when I say coaching, I mean lovingly pushing me while I resist like a toddler being told it is bedtime. We have had full yelling matches. Not because he is mean, but because he sees something in me that I struggle to see in myself.
He pushes me to grow. I push back with fear.
I tell him all the time, I don’t believe in myself. And instead of agreeing, he refuses to let me stay there. Add in my decision to walk by faith and not by sight, and my daily dependence on the strength of the Lord, and you get a woman who is growing but not quietly.
Growth for me is not graceful. It is loud. It is emotional. It is uncomfortable. It is holy and messy at the same time.
Today, though, I did something different.
For once, I allowed myself to enjoy myself without guilt.
I got a Japanese head massage that absolutely rocked my world. I am not exaggerating. I left that place questioning all my life choices and wondering why I have been living without that level of peace. It was like therapy, prayer, and a nap had a baby.
Then I ate on Rodeo Drive. Because if you are going to emotionally confront forty, you might as well do it with expensive food and good lighting. I bought a few belts at Gucci, which is hilarious because belts are the least exciting purchase but somehow felt symbolic. Like, okay life, I am holding myself together now.
I do not spoil myself very often. I am usually the practical one. The responsible one. The one who talks herself out of joy because it feels unnecessary. But my husband encouraged me. He reminded me that celebrating myself does not make me selfish. It makes me human.
At the end of the day, I had an absolute blast. Dinner at Tao. Hanging out with my girlfriends. Taking photos and videos. Laughing. Feeling present. Feeling alive. Feeling like maybe forty is not a loss, but a beginning.
Happy 40th birthday to me.
If I could tell my younger self one thing, it would not be something deep and poetic. It would be this. Do not be lazy with your calling. And by lazy, I do not mean physically lazy. I mean emotionally lazy. Stop waiting to feel confident. Stop waiting to feel ready. Stop waiting for fear to disappear.
Just do it.
Do it afraid. Do it with excitement. Do it while doubting yourself. Do it while your hands shake. Do it even when you feel unqualified. No matter what you feel, just do it.
Because fear does not get smaller when you wait. It gets louder.
The lesson I am learning at forty is this. You do not have to believe in yourself perfectly. You just have to move anyway. Faith is not the absence of fear. It is movement in spite of it.
Life is not about having a flawless timeline. It is about showing up honestly where you are, trusting God with the rest, and choosing courage one imperfect step at a time.
Forty is not too late. Forty is not the end. Forty is not failure.
Forty is clarity.
Remember you are my lovers, whether you love me or love to hate me you are still my lover!
Don’t forget Jesus loves you and so do I!