I don’t like my jowls: A geriatric millennial reflects on turning 40

I imagined turning 40 differently.
In my 20s, I fantasized that hitting “midlife” would be a watershed moment when, draped in white linen on a Nile sunset cruise that I had gifted myself for the occasion, I’d reflect contentedly on all I had accomplished.
There was no Nile cruise. There was no white linen. Instead, I ate chocolate cake and pizza with my daughters, mother and partner at a local restaurant.
I should have been happy, and, in a lot of ways, I was. But something also was gnawing.
Even though I know that comparison is a bottomless well of unhappiness, I couldn’t avoid thinking about where my mother was at my age, or what my friends had accomplished that I hadn’t. It was impossible not to compare myself with my younger self: What she looked like, what she thought her life would be like by now.
Was this a midlife crisis? Maybe a little one, sure.
At 40, I have done things I thought I would never do when I was younger (have a family, go to law school). I also thought I would do things that I haven’t (own a home, get married).
There is the aging my mother warned me about and I ignored (wear sunscreen, don’t smoke). There is the aging my mom didn’t warn me about (I’d rather not talk about it).
Ignore everyone who tells you that getting older is amazing. It’s mostly not.
Like other millennials on the geriatric side, I recently turned 40. Millennials, as a generation, have gotten a bad rap (avocado toast, anyone?).
Here are some truths: We are more educated than previous generations. Fewer of us are homeowners. We are less married than our parents or grandparents, but we are also less divorced. We graduated high school or college during the Great Recession. Many of us had small children in our homes during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Millennials are worried about our financial futures, and, along with our younger Gen Z, we carry the most debt.
Should kids have phones?No TikTok? No problem. Here’s why you shouldn’t rush to buy your child a phone.
Gen Z and millennials also spend more than other generations on beauty. I can relate to that − at 40, I am not Zen enough to see “wisdom lines.” I just see lines.
Trying to make peace with the face that stares back at me in the mirror isn’t something I thought about when I was younger. Aging is, of course, more fraught for women because society still bases much of our value on how we look.
For Gen Z readers, the oldest of whom will turn 40 in 2037, I know the big 4-0 feels a long way away. It’s not. But I have tips to make aging easier for you.
Despite the beginning of jowls and the stray gray hairs that keep popping up − despite the tight jeans that began life as the loose-fitting variety − I like plenty of things about turning 40.
My money is better. I’m a MUCH better cook. My romantic relationship is better. I’m better at my work.
The lack of raging hormones means no pimples and no internal, emotional firestorms capable of dynamiting interpersonal relationships (who, me?). Carli at 23 would have paid anything to regulate her emotions the way I do now.
And there’s still a lot to look forward to and benefits that I cannot yet access (because of my youth).
I am still too young to get my AARP membership, but, when the time comes, I will make excellent use of the senior discounts.
At 40, I don’t yet have reading glasses sliding down my nose, but when I do I will have bright red ones.
And then there are the real benefits of growing older − like getting better at living in the now.
There are benefits of getting much older, too. One day, I will be the grandma who buys all the candy, soda and toys I had to say “no” to as a mother. “You want Swedish Fish and pizza for breakfast? No problem − we won’t tell your mom.”
Forty feels like it will never arrive, and then it does. Now, I’m thinking about 50 and 60 differently.
Do what you can to look and feel as good as possible, plan for the future and enjoy the now. Don’t hover over your regrets. And if you haven’t started yet, learn to laugh at yourself.
There is a lot to enjoy at 40. And, now and again, when I find myself zeroing in on the bad parts of getting older, I will remember: “Carli, you may not like your jowls, but, at 40, you can probably afford a trip to the dermatologist to stave them off a bit longer.”
Carli Pierson is an opinion editor at USA TODAY and a New York-licensed attorney.