I don’t know why this birthday felt so mammoth in my mind for so long. Like a quiet doomsday for certain accomplishments — a line in the sand where I swore I’d have it all done. The goals checked off. The biggest, flashiest party. The perfect everything. But as life does, this past year swept me up. Some of the things I aimed for went a little grey. I thought my book would be published by now — instead I’m still scribbling and scrambling through pages of notes. I promised myself I’d get good at tennis… and so far I’ve made it to pickleball once. The new project I’ve poured a year into? Still months from launch. I even convinced myself I needed a full mummy makeover — only to realize what I really had time for was more water and a facial. And guess what? It’s just another day. But a day where I feel loved, proud, and deeply supported. And in perfect Benz style, the non-planned “party” turned into a series of epic, spontaneous moments that somehow filled my entire week. I couldn’t be happier with where I am — or with what I’ve done in 40 years on this wild little planet. My family is everything. I’m proud of what I’ve built. Grateful for how driven I still feel. And excited to fill the years ahead with more love, more growth, more travel — and more kindness toward my body, the one thing that’s carried me through all of it. As the youngest in my friend group (wink), the message from everyone who got here before me is the same: It only gets better. Let’s fucking go — Level 40. I made it. ✨