Confessions of a Forty-Something

by Alexandra Potter

‘And I’m forty-something.’ ‘So? I’m eighty-something.’ I smiled, despite myself. ‘Don’t worry about getting older, worry about becoming dull.’

We’re encouraged to be our true, authentic selves, but being told to feel happy when you’re just not feeling it, only encourages us to be the exact opposite. Life can be wonderful but it can also be scary and hard. We should be free to feel sad or gloomy or just downright bloody miserable, without feeling like there’s something wrong with us Because sometimes happiness isn’t a choice. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can’t find joy. Which is why I’ve decided to stop beating myself up by desperately seeking happiness and give myself the permission to feel exactly how I feel, when I feel it. In fact, maybe, it’s not happiness we should be looking for after all – but acceptance.

Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good. Take risks. Forty-something is very young when you’re eighty-something. These are your good old days. Most people are good; it’s just that it’s the bad people who make the news. If those shoes aren’t comfy in the store they’re never going to be comfy. When it comes to money, only think six months ahead: any more and you’ll panic; any less and you’ll buy that dress you’ll never wear. How someone deals with a parking ticket, stepping in dog shit, a delayed train and a dying bee says a lot about them. The same goes for what they do with their supermarket trolley. Be anything, but always be outrageous. Find your tribe. Never join the Blue Rinse Brigade. Some things can’t always be untangled.