A note to myself on the eve of my 39th birthday

Today might be the first day of the rest of my life.

I’ve spent most of my 30s letting the internet decide what makes me valuable.

A funny joke. A career win. A “hot” pic some men would send a fire emoji to.

All of it posted to prove that I was someone worth loving.

And now, on the eve of my 39th birthday, I’ve got a few accomplishments, plenty of failures, and the feeling I need a full factory reset.

I have been so afraid to fail that I became everything except myself, and that fear made me fail anyway.

The internet makes failure feel like something you’re not allowed to do.

It shames you for trying.

It turns uncertainty into content.

And I let that shame shape me until I stopped trusting my own instincts and became a product of my feed.

I’ve spent years afraid to move, afraid to really live unless I knew it would be rewarded.

What I’m now learning is that failure isn’t what breaks you hiding from it is.

So my goal for my 39th year is simple: fail better.

Fail without shame.

Love without armor.

Show up without caring who’s watching (or if anyone is at all).

Because the more I fail, the more honest my life and my work will be.

If you feel stuck, behind, lost, or like your 30s have been a nightmare, you’re not alone.

Some of us are just late getting started.

And that’s not a flaw.

Maybe that’s the point.

Maybe arriving late means that when your time finally comes, you’ll show up wide awake.