I wrote a version of this post before, but that was about lessons. Unfortunately, learning isn’t on the agenda today. Instead, I’m just going to rant.
And while I have quite a few months ahead before my big four-oh, I thought I’d get a head start on what I think about turning 40.
Is this going to be a useful post? Probably not. Will it help you find solace? Maybe. What’s most important is the realisation that we’re all on a one-way journey. So we best make fun of ourselves while we can.
And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
1. I still look young
I’ve been blessed with a young face. I know that because I’m always misjudged by a decade when strangers play the age-guessing game with me. I remember going back to college at the age of 27 and being asked if I had just graduated from secondary school.
“You’ll be thankful for it,” is what the well-meaning older folks say. And I am grateful. But being Benjamin Button presents its own set of challenges too, career progression being one of them.
It’s hard to find a managerial post with a face like mine. Not only do I need to work harder, but I have to prove myself more when leading a team that looks like they could all be my uncles and aunts.
Maybe climbing the corporate ladder isn’t something I’m built for, just like how I can’t expect to join the NBA being 5’6″.
I’m all for believing in the impossible, but you gotta play to your strengths too, am I right?
2. My body is a temple, and it’s crumbling
I used to be a handful as a kid, having picked up smoking at the age of 14. My mother had always pleaded for me to quit, saying: “You won’t feel it now. But you will when you get older.”
I never did care about that, but the recent years have changed my mind. I’ve since quit smoking, but my mother’s words still ring true.
Everything I do has a consequence. I used to be able to get drunk off two cans of beer. Now I need a six-pack to feel a buzz, which also means a nastier hangover for less fun.
The good thing about my rising tolerance is that alcohol has lost its lustre. I’ve since quit drinking too, but now I have a new enemy: sugar.
Overdo the doughnuts and I find myself in a stupor for the rest of the day. Down a sports drink on an empty stomach and I crash an hour later.
What’s next? Having to give up walking because it’s taxing on the joints? I don’t know. But I do know that my temple doesn’t have a handyman, so I best keep its walls pristine.
3. I’m still discovering foreign sensations
I may look young, but my body’s starting to protest in some pretty novel ways.
For instance, every time I wake up at night to pee, I get a weird low-sugar effect once I’m back in bed. I’ve cut my caffeine intake (used to drink four cups a day) and that seems to have remedied the situation. But never in 40 years did I think I’d find nighttime peeing such a taxing experience.
Then there are the aches that stretch from my butt to my ankle. Or weird bouts of vertigo. Or funny boils that pop out of nowhere.
I miss my youthful days when health concerns were the last thing on my mind. My only priorities involved gaming and getting high, and they didn’t include weird bodily symptoms. Today, I could be all fine and dandy one moment, then feel a tickle in my chest the next.
Living is weird.
4. I’m falling out of fashion
I’m almost bald at the crown of my head, the wrinkles around my eyes are setting in, and I already have a grey hair or two. All the physical signs of ageing have now been bestowed upon me. And it’s time for me to carry the torch of the middle-aged man.
Because of this, I’m no longer looking forward to the next fashion trend. My pair of Doc Martens fit me differently now than when I could rock my skintight jeans.
I’ve traded my USD 30 salon haircuts (I was a hairdresser, after all) for USD 2 barber cuts. I have ten similar black tees that I wear daily.
To me, the biggest fashion statement I can make now is to remain fit, hygienic, and kind. The clothes are just accessories.
Can’t help feeling like a Basic Bob sometimes though.
5. I’m accepting acceptance
The older I grow, the more data I have to base personal decisions off of. Which means that I’ve stopped resisting my personal tendencies.
For instance, I’m no longer banking on that big literary break or wishing for that lottery windfall. I know what my daily baseline is, so I don’t waste my time hoping that the morrow brings miracles and fairy dust.
If I want things to change, I have to first make that change. Not an exciting prospect, sure, but it’s empowering to accept yourself for who you really are, warts and all.
I’m inherently negative, so that means I’m not going to wake up all smiles and rainbows. That, I have to earn. And my paths to contentment involve completing tough projects and taking good care of myself.
It took me 30+ years before coming to terms with my introverted self. And that’s just one of the many other facets of my life I wish to accept. Maybe when I turn 50, I’ll accept that it’s okay to not be liked.
I wonder how old I’ll be before I stop caring what other people think.
Ageing isn’t regressing
Despite these tiny little rants, I have to say that I’m currently in the best shape of my life, both physically and mentally.
Go back twenty years and tell me that I’d someday care for my own health and I’d probably ask you for whatever it was you were smoking.
But here I am, learning as the years pass, that age is just a number. And if I’m feeling this good at 40 compared to 20, I have a feeling that 60 is gonna be bitchin’.
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Stuart Danker 
I’d love to hear your thoughts!