Sod the ‘under 40’ lists. Show me people changing it up with greying hair and laughter lines
Introduce me to the risk takers with scars to show and stories to tell.
An audio version of this piece is available here:
I want to learn to ride a motorbike. I want to be the next Stephen King. I want to pierce my ears again. I want more tattoos. I want to travel around Japan. I want to learn self-defence. I want to hold an anti-productivity workshop that celebrates the joy of doing absolutely nothing. I want to be fluent in Dutch. I want to enjoy marketing my new non-fiction book coming out later this year, rather than dread it. I want to go on an ayahuasca retreat. I want to self-publish a filthy dark romance novel that quietly takes off in underground book-bitch forums. I want to go raving with my friends and find a packet of cigarettes in my pocket mid-sesh.
Achieving all or any of this will be better because I am over 40, not despite it.
It’s my birthday and I’ll go mad if I want to
I turn 41 tomorrow; it’s a strange age. As a woman, entering your 40s means being confronted by biological realities you can’t ignore. These realities, in turn, can push you to consider the choices you made, or didn’t make, and reflect on how life has either patted you on the back or kicked you in the teeth. For any gender, this is the era when you might think, “Is this it?” followed closely by, “Am I okay with that?” It’s when you start comparing where you are with where you imagined you might be.
When I was a teenager, 40 seemed ancient. To me, anyone older than 30 was basically already on their way out, yelling “WHAT?” while clutching ear trumpets. Of course that view was always skewed by the arrogance of youth (and copious amounts of weed), but there’s a growing stash of think-pieces pointing out how millennials (born 1980–1996) seem younger compared to generational stereotypes. I’d argue it’s true of Gen Xers (born the decade before) too. Some of that’s due to great skincare(!), sure, and medical enhancements, why not, but it’s also because we’ve been forced to stay young.
Gone are the days of jobs-for-life or buying a habitable house on a single salary that’s near where you work (imagine!). We have no guaranteed pensions (if you do, congrats, nerd), yet we’re living longer. We’re the ‘in-between’ generations: raised analogue, launched into digital. We remember phone boxes, paper maps, and showing up when you said you would because fuck knows what would happen if you didn’t. And yet, we’ve had to compete in a workforce shaped by the internet, against Gen Z who are digital natives.
Many of us are having kids later, or not at all, because society has finally started to accept that women might want different things or to be supported in ways that our creaky societal systems simply can’t or won’t accommodate.
You know what would help me to take risks? Coffee. If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a brew!:
So, we’ve stayed flexible, learning not to take anything for granted. That’s created communal exhaustion and fury, yes, but also pride. You see it in the grey-hair movement, in articles about how Gen X is having the best sex of their lives, in new menopause legislation, and in Hollywood’s snail-pace recognition that women 40+ not only exist (hello!), but have things to say (see BabyGirl, The Substance, The Last Showgirl, I’m Still Here, Dying For Sex, and Shell). It follows that people this age and older are trying mad new things and either winning or failing with style.
So, I want to hear stories of people who changed stuff up post-40. I want to hear about people taking a risk that they weren’t ready or able to take before. I want to believe that it’s not too late – that it is, in fact, the perfect time to do it. For surely it is the perfect time? When you know yourself better, when you have enough love and loss scarring your heart (and your skin) to make it count. To make it matter. When you have secrets and shame and shadows that shape who you are and what you know. When you may have overcome huge health issues or love people who have.
Tell me tales of those teaching themselves to brew beer at 60 after losing everything. Give me debut novelists of 70 weaving words that make me feel seen and sad. Introduce me to newly qualified bikers starting motorcycle clubs at 45.
Make me believe that dreams can not only come true nowadays – but that it’s better when they do.
Just One More Thing
I know that change, reinvention, and risk often come down to financial freedom. It’s easier to chase dreams when there’s money to cushion a fall. But beyond the cash, what money really buys is time. And time is the most radical, underrated luxury of all. Time to write that novel. Time to learn to ride a motorbike. Time to fuck around and find out. Money and time are in short supply, now more than ever. And yet there are risks – small ones – that don’t demand much of either. That can be worked into a skint schedule. And those small wins are often the most rewarding of all. So here’s to making the most of it – however, whenever, and as wildly as we can.
*Exceedingly modest reminder that I have written eight bestselling mental-health books which have been translated into dozens of languages. I’ve also written a book about the TV show Friends which would make a delightful gift for any Friends obsessives. All are available to buy online or at your local bookshop.
I passed my driving test aged 44, having learned during the pandemic, while struggling to hear masked instructors and examiners because I'm deaf! Picking up a new car very soon that has a 1.2 litre engine, so vrooooooommmmmmmm!!!!!
And my Substack is about interesting places my partner and I can at last get to because we finally have our own wheels.
I'm 39, disabled and skint, so hoping for some good 40s!
On a brighter note, my parents are in their 60s and planning a round the world trip so it's definitely never too late .