40th Wishes

Forty looks lovely on you, Mom. May this year be soft on you, the way you've been soft on the rest of us for forty years.

Forty, Dad , and you wear it like everything else, quietly and well. May this year give back even a fraction of what you give the rest of us. Happy 40th.

Forty, my friend. This is the decade where you fully, publicly stop caring what the wrong people think. The nonsense falls away. The good stuff stays. And what's left is you , the actual version , which is somehow even better than I thought when we were twenty and thought we had it figured out. Happy 40th. Long may we embarrass ourselves only on our own terms.

Forty, my love, and I'd marry you again today, in a heartbeat, in any version of this life I got to live. You make the work look easy, the love feel certain, and the years pass like a slow and steady song I never want to end. Happy 40th. The next chapter is ours.

Forty, sis. The decade where you stop pretending to like things you don't like, stop going to events you don't want to go to, and start charging what you're worth. It's the most powerful decade there is and it looks incredible on you. Don't waste a single year of it. Happy 40th.

Forty, Auntie , and you wear it as lightly and gracefully as you wear everything else. May this decade be as kind to you as you've been to all of us. Happy 40th.

Forty, my love, and even more yourself than the day I met you. May this decade hold all the soft, brave, beautiful things you've been quietly building toward.

Happy 40th, my love. The forties are when you fully stop pretending. You know exactly who you are, exactly what you will and won't put up with, and exactly how you take your coffee. You are the most yourself you have ever been , and you have never, in my opinion, been better. Happy birthday.

Forty looks unfairly good on you, sis. May this decade hand you back every brave, generous thing you've poured into the rest of us.