There is something powerful about standing at the doorway of a new year of your life and realizing you get to decide what comes with you.
Not what people expect from you.
Not what you have always carried.
Not the version of yourself that you created just to survive.
You get to decide.
And as I stand here at 41 years old, I realize I am not just celebrating another birthday.
I am celebrating the woman who made it here.
When I look back at 40, I smile.
Because 40 started exactly how I needed it to.
In my apartment.
With my people.
With a beautiful, intimate lounge experience that felt like me.
It was everything I wanted and somehow even more than I imagined.
The candles.
The conversations.
The laughter.
The feeling of being surrounded by people who loved me.
And honestly, that was the entire point.
I wasn’t trying to create a perfect moment.
I was creating a meaningful one.
My 20s were full of possibilities.
My 30s were all about discovery.
But my 40s?
My 40s have been about becoming.
This decade has always been called so many things.
Midlife.
The pivot decade.
The season where you supposedly start asking the big questions.
And as a millennial stepping into this decade, I found myself embracing the unknown.
Because what better way to enter a new chapter than surrounded by the people who have walked through previous chapters with me?
The ones who knew me in my 20s.
The ones who watched me navigate my 30s.
And now the ones standing beside me as I step into my 40s.
There was something sacred about starting this decade right there in my apartment.
It felt like home.
It felt like healing.
It felt like exactly where I was supposed to begin.
What I Released
Now let me tell you something.
Whew.
Turning 41 came with some serious honesty.
Because I had to finally admit something:
I am no longer a homegirl.
I am becoming a lady.
Oh my.
And that realization has been both hilarious and humbling.
I had to release the version of myself that was constantly trying to make everyone else comfortable.
The people-pleaser version of myself.
The version that allowed other people to make decisions for me because arguing felt harder than simply going along with it.
I had to release the entourage.
And baby, that one was hard.
A few months ago, I ran into a former coworker and associate, and she said something that stuck with me:
“You had a lot of people around you.”
And I remember thinking:
How sway?
Because whew… that one stung.
But the truth?
I did.
I had a lot of people around me.
But I was living for a lot of people too.
Living for their opinions.
Living for their approval.
Living for them to tell me what I was doing, how I was doing it, and when I was doing it.
And the deepest realization was this:
I hated it.
And because I hated it, I started hating parts of myself too.
That’s a hard thing to admit.
But there was freedom in finally seeing it.
Releasing that version of myself has been one of the greatest gifts I have ever given myself.
My nervous system thanks me daily.
It celebrates every time I choose myself.
Every time I protect my peace.
Every time I stop abandoning myself to make someone else comfortable.
So I have to ask:
What happens when you stop waiting for joy to find you and decide to find it yourself?
Everything changes.
You stop looking outward and start looking inward.
And somewhere in that process, joy finds you anyway.
Chapter One:
My 40s Have Been About Becoming
Girlfriend…
Who are you?
That question hit me harder than I expected.
Because for so long, people knew me for what I did.
What I created.
What I provided.
What I could do for them.
But the question became:
Who the hell are you when you aren’t doing something for somebody else?
And baby…
That question will sit you down.
At 40 and a half, as the kids would say, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Who are you?
Because the truth was…
So many people knew what I did.
But very few people knew who I was.
And honestly?
I didn’t fully know either.
So ask me now, at 41 years and one day old:
Who is Ronisha Arlene Levy?
I am a bold woman.
A lively woman.
A colorful woman.
An assertive woman.
I love a beautiful glass of wine and even better food.
My friends will tell you I am bougie when it comes to food.
And you know what?
They are absolutely right.
(Let me have my fancy plate and my good meal. 😂)
But more than that…
I am a woman learning herself.
A woman becoming comfortable with her own voice.
A woman who no longer wants to just be known for what she creates.
I want to be known for who I am.
Peace Is the New Success
Phew.
Peace.
Peace is necessary in your 40s.
Honestly, I am so here for all the peace.
I will stop everything for peace at this point.
Because peace starts from within.
And when you have peace inside of you, you can face whatever is standing in front of you.
I have never experienced this level of stillness in any other decade of my life.
My 20s were exciting.
My 30s were busy.
But my 40s?
My 40s have been intentional.
Success looks different now.
It is quieter.
It is not always the big celebration.
Sometimes success looks like sleeping peacefully.
Sometimes success looks like standing a little taller.
Sometimes success looks like knowing you chose yourself.
And baby…
I am proud of myself.
At 41, I can finally say that.
I am proud of the woman standing here.
Reflection
I spent so much time becoming someone everyone else could be proud of that I forgot to celebrate the woman who was already standing here.
And now?
I am celebrating her.
An extra dance in the living room.
A little more laughter.
A little more joy.
A little more permission to be exactly who I am.