Staring Down 40…

Tetyana Denford - 6 Feb 16

You know when at the beginning of the construction of a bridge, there has to be an explosion, to clear a path? That’s what happened to me at the beginning of this year, when I faced my fears and looked down a completely new path.

My heart was racing: I was staring down this year and I felt scared all of a sudden. Scared and unsettled and insecure. I didn’t know why, and I couldn’t figure out how to shake this feeling. Even a glass of wine didn’t help (then I *really* knew something was bothering me…).

I realise that the idea of “Magical Thinking” has come from Joan Didion, and the book she wrote about love and loss (one of the most amazing books I’ve ever read). But it’s always stuck in my mind as a great way to look at change in your life. And that’s what I was facing this year. A year of change. A year of thinking differently.

The past 6 years, I have been either pregnant, or breastfeeding, or trying for a baby… constantly juggling all the circus-like-chaos of motherhood with trying to keep my career semi-stable. I created a pretty good (albeit challenging) routine for myself: 3-4 days of working in London, 4-3 days at home with the kids. Once we decided to have a third child, I stopped working and was at home with the kids full time. It was an adjustment, but I liked it. I relished it. There was (still is) something to do, something to juggle, somewhere to go, someone to feed, someone’s nappy to change. During this time, my husband and I also started another business online, which was exciting, but I had limited time to focus my energies on it properly. Kids were the priority, then the husband, then the house, then life, and then… me. Last on the list.

My third child is now going to start preschool this year, and I’ve decided to take a break and focus on myself and use the time that I have to work.

Me. Me? Me! Me…

I was scared.

My husband and my friends repeated the Supportive Chorus of “Why does that make you nervous? You’ll be great! You have all these exciting new things ahead of you!”

It didn’t negate the grey cloud that was rumbling above me.

I stared at myself in the mirror and said it out loud. To myself:

I’m scared of the time that is slipping away from me.
I’m scared of turning 40 and having to “prove” something to someone, or even myself.
I’m not sure I remember who I am anymore after spending 6 years of my life being a mother.
I’m scared of this year resulting in a reconstruction of myself into a different person. 
I’m scared of failing.
I think I want another baby. How does that fit in? 
I’m scared of not having a specific plan, or agenda, or routine for myself. 

There’s this wild Insecurity Rollercoaster that I’ve seen a lot of my women friends go on in their 40s, but they don’t tend to speak up about it. The running joke is always about the husband that gets the Porsche, or an earring, or starts behaving like a bearded-hipster that wants to build a wood shop/man cave in his garden shed. But what about us? We have this physical separation from the babies that we carried, and at some point we have to really let go of all that. It’s hard. It’s emotional. It’s literally life-changing.

When women go through the mid-life/am-I-finished-with-babies thing, it seems we tend to get really tough on ourselves and just keep going. Just keep doing the routine of taking care of our families and forgetting about how to take care of ourselves. In a way, it’s easier. It’s easier to drown out the Big Questions by settling into the routine. The Insecurity Rollercoaster stops at the top and stalls temporarily. And that feels safer. Less scary. “I don’t have the time to deal with that now”, we say to ourselves, and ignore it.

Fo me, I realised that I don’t think it’s healthy for me to pick the safer option. “Easier” and “I’ll deal with it later” isn’t the thing that I’m craving. The confusing thing is that I crave the challenge but I equally fear it. So I was stuck in one spot until I faced myself in the mirror and told myself what I feared. Out loud.

I will fully admit that it’s hard for me to admit my insecurities and my fears. Because it feels like some kind of failure to even admit that. And I think a lot of women probably feel the same, but feel it’s somehow taboo to talk about it.

But in facing my fears, I think I can find my strength. I can feel empowered. I can see the bridge that will be built, with the “new” and “old” pieces of myself that I can combine into a fresh perspective. A fresh path. A new outlook.

I know it’ll take time. I know I’ll be slightly unsure and tentative in my steps.

But that’s the thing about a journey. It’s an individual thing. It doesn’t have to make sense or have a reason. All I have to do is do my best to make it magical.

Tetyana Denford

Tetyana is a Ukrainian-American mum of three, married to an Englishman, living in NY. She's written for Elle and Vogue magazines, and her first novel 'Motherland' is available at Amazon. She hosts a YouTube show called The Craft and Business of Books, translates for Frontline PBS news, and writes freelance.

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