In which I embrace the cliche of “mid-life introspection.” And warning – this one’s long. But it’s my party and I can blog if I want to.

You guys – I made it! I’ve been waiting to turn 40 for ages now and it feels like my chronological age has finally caught up to my soul age!

So much of this last decade has been figuring out who I am. And I think when you arrive at 40, society finally says it’s ok to relax into that identity. (Or maybe you stop caring about outside opinions. I did wear leggings as pants the other day….)

I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s a lot of things I’m supposed to like/be good at, but I just don’t:  Interior decorating. Shopping. Oranges. Fashion. Sushi. Standing at concerts. Playing with children. Planning vacations. Sitting still for an entire movie. IPAs. Going out more than once a week. Fancy coffee. Group exercise.

Instead, having found freedom from worrying about being inferior, I have so much space to lean into the things I do love. Baking bread. Spinach. Yet another book about simple living. Hiking. Churching. Cardigans (bonus if there’s a pocket for Kleenex). Semicolons. Four free evenings in a row.

My favourite quote (it’s a birthday post. Of course there’s a quote!) is from Colette:

What a wonderful life I’ve lived. If only I’d realized it sooner.

Since I discovered it, I vowed I would realize it now. That I would open my eyes to the wonder around me. That I would never lose sight of the quotidian glory that so easily gets ignored for its very familiarity.

And so, my love letter to the universe:

Thank you for this perfect fit of a city in which I find myself. For its relaxed pace and authenticity and delicious beer and its embracing of my family. And for surrounding me with beauty:

Thank you for fulfilling work. For its variety and its challenges. For friends who love me and who love correct indentation in equal measure. For an office with a ten-second commute that allows for welcome kid snuggle interruptions.

Thank you for extended family. For brothers who helped rub off my rough edges. For inlaws who ignore pesky things like biological connection when defining “family.”

Thank you for my bestest girls. The ones who cancel Christmas and hop on a plane because you need them. Who sit beside you while you watch a Jamie Oliver marathon and give you space to sob. Who go for A&W coffee after every practice. Who know that broken hearts are mended with kitty cat mugs.

Thank for this guy.

Thank you for that glimmer of hope that sustained us through picking up the pieces of a shattered marriage. Thank you for making that long fight worth it and for a happily ever after every single day.

Thank you for these nerds.

Who knew my heart could get so big and so full? Who knew you could get a do-over? Who knew you could be inspired to set aside your selfishness with joy? Who knew teenagers were hilarious and smart and kind?

Thank you for Jesus. For embodying love and grace and for filling me with it. And for teaching me to see it thrumming through the world.

And, because none of this would exist otherwise, thank you for these two:

As a parent of teenagers myself: “Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry – I had no idea.” This one’s for you.

You guys, if this is all I get, it’s enough. Happy birthday to me!