39 Things I See Differently at 39

Today, I turn 39.

I’m not entirely sure what 39 is supposed to feel like. Maybe that’s already one of the things I’ve learned over the years: most ages feel surprisingly unspectacular from the inside. As a child, I had a pretty clear idea of what adults in their thirties, forties or fifties would be like. They would know what they were doing. They would have their lives figured out, made the important decisions and probably found answers to most of the big questions. Now that I’m getting remarkably close to that mysterious 40, I can confidently say: I was wrong. Adults improvise an alarming amount of the time.

Of course, I have learned a few things over the past 39 years. I know more about myself, about other people and about what matters to me. I’ve gathered experiences, made mistakes, tried things, fallen in love, been angry, met people and lost people, worked, started projects and abandoned them again. I’ve made decisions I’m glad I made. Others I would probably make differently today. And with some of them, I’ll simply never know whether the alternative would have been better. Most of all, though, I’ve changed my mind. And I don’t just mean about the big things. Some are surprisingly mundane. Comfortable shoes, for example, have become much more important than my younger self would have been willing to accept. Staying home can make for an excellent Saturday night. And a free afternoon with nothing to show for it at the end is not necessarily an afternoon wasted.

Some of the changes go a little deeper. I used to think in either-or terms much more often. Today, I believe that a surprising number of things can be true at the same time. I can be grateful for my life and still wish certain things were different. I can love someone and be angry with them at the same time. I can believe a decision is the right one and still be sad about its consequences. Two contradictory feelings don’t necessarily cancel each other out. Maybe that’s part of getting older for me: the shades in between have become much more interesting.

My relationship with success has changed too. An idea doesn’t have to become a big project. A project doesn’t have to reach thousands of people. Something that brings joy to or helps twenty people can be just as worthwhile as something that reaches twenty thousand. And sometimes I’m allowed to build, write or create something even though other people could do it better. Maybe even simply because I enjoy doing it. Looking back, that sounds rather obvious. It wasn’t always obvious to me. The same goes for responsibility. I used to think competent people had answers. The more responsibility I take on myself, the less I believe that. Maybe competence sometimes shows itself precisely in being able to say: I don’t know. I was wrong. We’ll have to figure this out.

And maybe that’s one of the ideas running through many of these 39 points: I don’t have to be finished. I don’t have to remain the same version of myself. I’m allowed to change my mind, even about things I once argued for with great confidence. I’m allowed to make decisions that are right for now rather than forever. And I don’t have to become the person I once imagined I would be at 39. So, for my birthday, I collected 39 things I see differently today than I used to. Some took me a long time to learn. Others are mundane. Some I take very seriously; others make me smile a little. And I’ll probably see some of them differently again by the time I’m 49.

1. You can love someone and be angry with them at the same time.
2. Sometimes being disappointed also means that my expectations weren’t realistic.
3. I don’t have to remain every version of myself forever.
4. I’m allowed to change my mind. Even about things I once felt very strongly about.
5. Taking responsibility doesn’t mean having to know all the answers.
6. Admitting a mistake doesn’t automatically make you less competent.
7. Not every good idea has to become a project.
8. And not every project has to become something big.
9. Making something for 20 people can be just as meaningful as making something for 20,000.
10. You’re allowed to do something simply because it’s fun.
11. I don’t have to choose one thing that defines me.
12. Adults improvise an alarming amount of the time.
13. You can be grateful for your life and still wish certain things were different.
14. Happiness feels much less spectacular than I once expected it to.
15. Rituals become more important rather than more boring as I get older.
16. The past explains some things, but it doesn’t automatically determine the future.
17. There are decisions where you will never know whether the alternative would have been better.
18. Staying home can make for a perfectly good Saturday night.
19. Comfortable shoes have become more important than my younger self would have been willing to accept.
20. You need surprisingly few possessions – and somehow still manage to accumulate a surprising amount of stuff.
21. A free afternoon without a plan is not an afternoon wasted.
22. You’re allowed to like things other people find silly.
23. Birthdays don’t have to feel significant to be significant.
24. It’s possible to have two contradictory feelings at the same time without either of them being wrong.
25. Closeness doesn’t necessarily come from spending as much time together as possible.
26. Love shows itself surprisingly often in completely unspectacular things.
27. It’s easier to give people a fresh start when you don’t constantly remind them of their past.
28. A decision doesn’t have to be forever to be right today.
29. Sometimes you only realise in hindsight that you were living through a pretty important time.
30. You’re allowed to be proud of something without immediately downplaying it.
31. Curiosity has become more important to me than being right.
32. My first reaction isn’t always my actual opinion.
33. People don’t always need a solution. Sometimes they need someone who can simply stay with them in the situation.
34. Helping doesn’t automatically mean doing something for someone.
35. I’m allowed to build, write or create things even if other people could do them better.
36. I don’t want to be younger. Sometimes I just wish I had more time.
37. I don’t feel 39. But then again, I have no idea what 39 is supposed to feel like.
38. I don’t have to become the person I imagined I would be when I was 20.
39. Thirty-nine is much younger than 20-year-olds think it is.

Looking at this list, I realise it doesn’t work particularly well as a collection of life lessons. Thankfully. At 39, I certainly don’t want to come up with 39 rules for how to live your life properly. They’re snapshots. Things I believe today. Things my experiences have taught me. Some I learned pleasantly, others less so. Someone could probably have told me some of these things twenty years ago, and I still would have needed to take my own detours before I truly understood them. Maybe that’s something I increasingly like about getting older: I don’t have to blame my younger self for not knowing things yet. He knew what he could know at the time.

And the same applies in the other direction. The person I am today doesn’t know what my future self will know. Maybe at 49 I’ll laugh at some of the things on this list. Maybe I’ll read one and wonder how I could ever have been so convinced of it. Maybe things will be added that I can’t even imagine today. I actually hope so. Because I don’t want to reach a point where my views are finished. I want to stay curious. I want to be surprised. I want to be able to change my mind. I want to make mistakes and occasionally even learn something from them. I want to try new things even when other people are better at them. And I want to keep discovering that some things in life are allowed to be beautiful and difficult at the same time.

So 39 feels less like taking stock and more like a progress report. I don’t want to be 20 again. Really, I don’t. At most, I’d like to have some of the time back that seemed almost unlimited back then. But I also wouldn’t want to give up everything that happened between 20 and 39. The good things, just as much as some of the things I would rather have been spared. All of it has become part of who I am.

And so today I begin my fortieth year. Not finished, without all the answers, and almost certainly without the final version of this list.

But at least I have comfortable shoes.

That’s something.