Grey Hairs, Midlife Wobbles, & Finding Myself at 42

So, it was my birthday a few days ago. And being totally honest, 42 crept up on me like a small child in the dead of the night. If you’re a parent, that’ll make more sense - one minute you’re sleeping soundly. The next, a solitary eye flicks open as you sense the presence of a tiny human loitering in the dark.

I probably should have marked 42's arrival with a big old 'Welcome Home' banner and a tea party for two. Just me and thee, along with the influx of grey hairs I’ve picked up this year. And let’s not even mention the mid-life, mid-body extra jiggle that seems to have moved in for good.

It’s been a heck of a year. I’ve had zero contact with my family (aside from the ones I live with, obviously!), and the air has felt fresher to breathe because of it. That might sound terrible, but that toxic family I mentioned before? Yeah, they were like an anchor, and I finally cut the rope. Not necessarily all of the cabin crew, but enough that the rest followed the trend, like sheep or lemurs. You know the type.

My mental health has done its usual up-down, in-out, shake-it-all-about rollercoaster routine, and I let it mess with the bigger picture more times than I’d like to admit. But that's OK. Because no matter how much we kid on that we're in control, sometimes, the map gets blown away and we have to make do for a little while.

Oh, and I also managed to con my husband into a second cat back in January. He’s a moron, the cat, not the husband. And I have zero regrets about the situation.

I bleached (and bleach-failed) my hair a handful of times, and yet only lost a handful of hair. I'll take that as a win.

Also, I bought a running machine (OK technically a little more than a year ago, but who’s counting?), ran enough to win two medals for miles, and then sold the running machine in an ADHD-fuelled 'done with that' rage. I replaced it with a boxing machine, punched the heck out of it, almost certainly broke a knuckle, and then bought better gloves. Progress.

Oh, and I published my book. Can't forget that!

The biggest win of all, though? I gave up thinking the world is out to get me. Because while it might be, in part at least, it doesn’t matter. I’m still here. Still breathing. And I love, love, love the world around me, chaos, cats, and all.

So here’s to 42. Here’s to the grey hairs and the mid-life jiggle. Here’s to letting go of what doesn’t serve us anymore. And here’s to all of you for sticking around and sharing the ride.

And yes, I know this sounds a bit like one of those New Year’s resolutions we all make and promptly forget by February. But hey, maybe it kind of is. A new year of 42!

Because who says you need fireworks and a hangover to kickstart a fresh chapter

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 “Life is like a camera: focus on what’s important, capture the good times, and if things don’t work out, just take another shot.”.

Ziad K. Abdelnour