I’m not supposed to be writing this particular post right now.

I should be writing something specific that my marketing team have been waiting for but today my brain doesn’t want to play and so instead, here I am.

This week I turned 39.

Weirdly, in a culture that seems obsessed with our ages and ranking our achievements against them, I feel no animosity to this number. I am excited to be here, on the cusp of 40.

When I was young, 39 felt so old. It was an age well on its way to retirement. It wasn’t glamorous or remarkable. Now when I look at pictures of famous people my own age, I see nothing that tells me where they are in their life.

My gift to myself this year is a few realisations.

1. The past is done and gone – holding onto it (and the stresses of those times) does nothing for me now. It’s time to let go and forgive myself and others.
2. I need to make more time for play and creativity. Creating not for profit or purpose but for the simple joyful mess of the process.
3. My happiness is mine alone, I owe nothing to anyone else. I shall no longer apologise for putting my own needs and desires first.

So today I am cranking up my music just a little bit louder, enjoying an extra break to feel the grass under my feet and smiling.

My path has been wobbly and unexpected but I am here, at 39.

I’m on no lists of high achievers, I win no prizes and I will one day (not far from now) be forgotten – and I couldn’t be happier.