A Letter to My 20-Year-Old Self, Who Thought 40 Was a Good Age to Die
Letting go of who I was to finally become who I'm meant to be.
Okay, so when I was younger, I made this quiet, somewhat ridiculous decision in my head: if I could choose an age to die, it would be 40.
I know, I know. (I can see your eyes rolling.) But hear me out.
In my 20‑year‑old brain, 40 felt like the beginning of the end. Like, why would anyone want to stick around past that point—wrinkly, slowing down, and whatever else I assumed happened after 39? So, with the full confidence of someone who had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, I decided 40 was the perfect finish line.
Fast forward to now. I'm actually turning 40 this year, and honestly? I was right. Forty is a good age to die.
Just… not in the way I thought.
Because what my younger self didn’t realize is that 40 would be the death of something far more worth letting go of than my physical body. It’s the death of a version of me that spent years being pulled in every direction, losing herself somewhere along the way, and collecting a whole lot of wounds—some necessary, some really, really not.
And if I’m being honest, some of those hard seasons were completely self‑inflicted. Like girl… we could have avoided some of that. But here we are.
There was so much in these past few decades—highs, lows, beautiful moments, painful ones. I’m grateful for most of it. Even the messy parts taught me something. But what I’m most grateful for is finally being able to see myself clearly: my patterns, my tendencies, what I actually want versus what I thought I was supposed to want.
That kind of self‑knowledge is hard‑won, and I don’t take it lightly.
But back to the dying.
Forty is going to be the death of that voice in my head that’s been running in the background for way too long—the one that says you’re not enough, you don’t deserve it, stay small, don’t be too much, don’t seem selfish.
That voice has had a good, long run. Respect.
But it’s time.
What I’m stepping into now feels like a full iOS upgrade. Same me, but with better beliefs, stronger boundaries, bugs fixed, and a much clearer sense of what I’m here for.
And yes, getting here cost something. It always does. You don’t become a newer version of yourself without letting the old one go. Sometimes that feels like a small death. Sometimes it feels like a big one.
For me, this is one of the bigger ones.
And I’m welcoming it.
So thank you, universe. Genuinely. For every lesson, every plot twist, every moment that knocked me down and somehow also built me up. I see now that all of it was leading somewhere.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m actually excited about where that is.
Forty is a good age to die.
And an even better one to finally, truly start living. ✨
