Level Fucking Forty šŸŽ‰šŸŽ‰

Well here I am, aged 40.

Iā€™m an adult woman finally, though it could be argued I hit that two decades ago. I’ve never felt like a grown up though – what I do feel is very loved, very sure that who I am has set now, and although I will learn more and more lessons along the way, this is pretty much who I will be until the end. Which is kind of fucking cool.

There’s not much to report since the clock struck midnight on Friday and shoved me into my forties. I don’t feel different. I don’t look different. I am not different.

I still woke up this morning and ate a cold McDonald’s apple pie and watched Netflix in my pants. I read some of my book and I checked my social media on the loo. Later I will dye my hair bright red and do a face mask.

I’m happy and lucky and secure in who I am. I have beautiful friends, great family and cool work mates. I’m an excellent speller and I can write a decent sentence. I wear black kohl around my eyes the same way I did when I was eighteen. I’m heavily tattooed now and that ink is half the reason I love my body more than I ever have.


I’m overweight and happy. I have anxiety and depression. I miss my dad every day and wish he was here. I had the best childhood. I married my best friend and get a kick out of belonging to him, just not in the ownership sense. He feels like home, is home.

I love the people I surround myself with. Can’t believe sometimes that these talented and interesting people want to spend time with me, although I would choose myself as a friend. I know I’m cool by not being cool at all.

I own art now, my very own piece of perfection by my favourite artist, and in March I’m going to visit my favourite city with my favourite person, courtesy of my family. It’s the city I want to retire to. Maybe I won’t come back. I heard a friend of a friend recently visited Amsterdam and didn’t come back, maybe I won’t either.

I think about how small the world is all the time, and how big. How everything I do is a choice – and I choose this life because it’s good. Every time I beat myself about not owning my own home or having loads of savings or a great career, I remember a line from a short film I once saw about a drag queen who passed away.Ā “I want to live a fulfilling life” (what a beautiful sentiment) – and I know I have too. I will.

I’m brave and scared all the time – I could push myself harder – and maybe I will now I’m here. Maybe I won’t but what I will do is aim for the fulfilling life. When you take everything into consideration, that really is all that matters.

How are you?

Ps. I’m going to celebrate the last few days of November with my 40 favourite things, so watch this space!