As I turn 40 next week I wrote about a gentle unravelling of self and a new way of being. This is the most personal piece I’ve had published in a long time and so thank you to @hattie_brett for giving me the space to explore an idea - that wasn’t fully formed but I worked it out as I wrote. I hope this sense of being able to shift and evolve as we age resonates. Also a huge pleasure to be in the same issue as @jessc_m ‘s flawless VB profile @swilkogram essential read on Amber Heard and @olivialanguage on gender (on lack of it) and fashion. Link in bio! Here’s an except: “All the 40th birthday parties I’ve been to recently have been impressive. It seems there’s an unwritten rule that by the time you’ve reached your fiftieth decade you should have the funds, the time and the know-how to organise a catered dinner or a private cocktail reception or a weekend country retreat. When you’re turning 21 it’s perfectly acceptable to casually invite a bunch of people to the pub. Thirtieth birthday – you might have got it together to book a table, but 40... a Save The Date should go out a month in advance and, if there’s not an ice-cold gin and tonic and a smoked salmon blini being served by a handsome waiter young enough to be your actual son on arrival, why even bother? Perhaps there’s a sense that we need to prove something at 40 because it’s not sexy and exciting and full of potential in the way that 30 is, and it’s not powerful and nihilistic and fun in the way 50 is. It’s the middle child desperate for attention – and reassurance. And, alas, here I am, three weeks before I creak into my oldest age yet, googling ‘pubs with private room, cheap’. I have neglected to invite anyone or organise anything, and since coming to terms with the truth that there is no glamorous surprise being secretly planned for me – I’m at a total loss for what to do...