Approaching 39: Reflecting on the Power of Gentleness
As I edge closer to 39 — a number that isn’t quite as ceremonious as 40, but still marks another year of growth — I find myself reflecting on a journey that’s been anything but ordinary.
Let’s rewind for a sec. I went through two severely abusive relationships — dark, soul-sucking periods that had me doubting if love even existed. Not the love they show in those rom-coms where misunderstandings get wrapped up in 90 minutes, but the deep kind of love that makes you believe in your own worth. I was this close to calling it quits on romance altogether. Then, as life often loves to throw in plot twists, I found the love of my life. Yep, the real deal. It turns out that even after the worst storms, flowers still bloom. Cheesy? Maybe. True? Absolutely.
But love doesn’t always start with others. For a long time, it didn’t even start with me. I thought love was external: something to seek, to chase, to earn. It wasn’t until I started raising my daughter that I began to realize how deeply healing starts from within. I didn’t have the answers; all I had to offer her was my own healing journey, and that was enough. She inspires me every day, not because of what she does, but because of who she is — a reflection of resilience, a mirror of the best parts of me that I once forgot existed. I wasn’t the Pinterest-perfect mom with the color-coordinated lunches or the helicopter-hovering lifestyle. I was just me, a work-in-progress who was learning how to be gentle with myself, in the hopes she’d learn to be gentle with herself too.
And then there was work. (Cue the serious music.) Being a doctor — yeah, that fancy title — doesn’t mean a thing when you’re in a country where healthcare professionals don’t necessarily rake in the dough. Being a single mom just added another layer of challenge. But I did it. I built a career that feeds my soul and puts food on the table. Not because it was easy, but because I refused to settle. I’ve packed up my life and moved, not just geographically but emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Many times. I’ve reinvented myself more times than I can count — shedding skins, picking up new ones, and learning to observe my own growth with the curiosity of a scientist. And somewhere along the way, I became friends with myself. (Yes, it’s possible. Highly recommend.)
Through it all, I became my own friend, learning to embrace who I am and who I continue to become.
My life today mirrors the dreams I once had, because I chose to find beauty and purpose in every single twist and turn. And let’s be clear, this isn’t some rags-to-riches fairytale. There was no silver tray, no miraculous rescue. Just grit, grace, and a lot of “fake-it-’til-you-make-it.”
Today, I couldn’t care less about anyone’s opinion on what success should look like. I’ve learned that success is deeply personal and doesn’t come with a one-size-fits-all label. For me it’s in the fact that I’m still standing — more than that, I’m thriving.
I am celebrating those stories of others who’ve walked similar paths, and remained gentle, because here’s what I’ve come to realize: “the strongest people I know are the gentle ones.” Not the ones who bulldoze through life with sharp elbows and sharper tongues, but the ones who hold space for their own vulnerabilities and the vulnerabilities of others.
There’s a quiet power in gentleness, in being able to show up authentically, without the armor, without the need to be perfect.
In celebrating this gentleness, I celebrate the ability to remain soft in a world that often demands hardness. Regardless of what success we achieve or accolades we collect, the real magic happens when we connect with others from a place of consideration and carefulness. As someone once wisely said, “Know all the theories, master all the techniques, but when you touch a human soul, be just another human soul.”(ref1)
So here’s to being strong enough to be soft, wise enough to be playful, and fierce enough to give zero f*cks about anything that doesn’t align with your joy.
Let’s go, 39. I’m ready for you.
P.S. Happy Birthday to the woman who once thought she had to earn her worth but now knows she’s always had it.
ref1: a quote form C.G.Jung
