37 & Unapologetic: A Love Letter to My Late 30s
- everydayyyytay
- Mar 16
- 7 min read
How My 30s Have Been the Most Transformative Decade Yet
There’s something about turning 37 that feels like a slow exhale. Like standing at the edge of something vast, but instead of feeling [super] anxious about what’s ahead, I feel…sure. Sure of the life I want, the peace I need, and the people that I want to hold close.
With each new year in this decade, I’ve learned to stop explaining myself, over-apologizing, and shrinking to make others comfortable. Instead, I take up space. I move with intention. I trust myself in a way that feels unshakeable.
My late 30s have been a masterclass in clarity. In releasing the weight of expectations—some placed on me, others I carried out of habit and my people-pleasing tendencies. In learning that ease isn’t something you earn after struggle, but something you can claim right now.
This season has stretched me, softened me, and shown me that I don’t have to prove anything to anyone, including myself. I’m enough as I am, right here. Right now. I look at myself and say “damn, I’ve come a long way.” I’m so proud of ME.
As I step audaciously into 37, I’m reflecting on what I’ve learned, what I’d tell my younger self, and the words I hope my future self holds close.
What My Late 30s Have Taught Me
Boundaries Are a Love Language
Saying “no” isn’t rude, mean, or any other negative connotation people make it out to be. Protecting my peace isn’t selfish. Prioritizing my needs isn’t up for negotiation. To be honest, I didn't get better at asserting these until after I had my daughter. Boundaries have saved me from burnout, resentment, and people who were never meant to stay.
Joy Is an Active Choice
Happiness isn’t something you stumble into. It’s something you cultivate, protect, and prioritize. I no longer wait for the “right” moment to enjoy life. I find joy in the small, quiet, everyday moments [and the big, loud ones too].
Softness Is a Superpower
I spent years being “strong,” or at least playing the part [after all, due to circumstance, I was driven to be hyper independent at a young age]. Gritting my teeth, toughening my skin, holding it all together even when I was unraveling. But strength isn’t about how much you can carry; it’s about knowing when to put things down. I’ve learned that softness, vulnerability, and rest are just as powerful as resilience. And quite frankly, I want off of the “strongest soldiers” list.
There Is No Timeline for Your Life
Society will tell you that certain things should happen by certain ages—marriage, kids, career milestones. But life unfolds on its own timeline. Some things happen earlier than expected, others much later, and some not at all. And you know what? That’s okay. Hell, I’ve changed careers multiple times, moved to different states, started over countless times, and still know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be! The deadlines are invisible, sis. Stop measuring yourself against them.
You Can Redefine Success Anytime You Want
[in the same vein as my previous point] Success in my 20s meant hitting career milestones, making more money, and staying “booked and busy." Now? I’d very much like to be paid and rested. Success looks like freedom of my time. Peace. The ability to say no without guilt. The space to create, rest, and exist on my own terms.
Friendships Shift—And That’s Okay
Not every friendship is meant to last forever [and that’s something I’ve had to make peace with]. Sometimes you’re aligned with people just for a season, some naturally drift away, and some last a lifetime. People grow, paths change, and sometimes the bond that once felt unbreakable just doesn’t fit anymore. Instead of forcing what no longer flows, I’ve learned to pour into the friendships that feel reciprocal, effortless, and aligned. No forcing, no over-explaining, no chasing, no wreaking havoc on my nervous system. The ones where love, support, and laughter come naturally…and most of all—accountability. History does not constitute a permanent spot in someone’s life [this goes for friendships, family, romantic relationships, and, and, and….]. And if a friendship no longer fits and our time has come to an end? I let it go with grace and gratitude for what it was, instead of holding onto something that no longer feels right. All with love.
Love—Real Love—Doesn’t Make You Shrink
I’ve learned that the right love, whether romantic or platonic, makes you feel bigger, bolder, more yourself. It doesn’t ask you to be smaller, quieter, or easier to handle. The best relationships are the ones that see you fully and say, yes, you—just as you are.
You Are Not Someone’s Emotional Savior
As an empath and [somewhat] recovered people-pleaser, I spent years trying to hold together people who weren’t willing to do the work themselves. My late 30s have taught me that it’s not my job to carry what doesn’t belong to me. I can listen without taking on. I can be there without trying to hand out tools that weren’t requested. It was also very much my ego thinking that I could help "fix" or "heal" anyone. That is above me [the good Lord got you]! And furthermore, focus on you and your wounds before attempting to take on anyone else's.
Not Everything Deserves Your Energy
There was a time when I felt the need to explain, defend, or correct every little thing [still working on pieces of this]. Like, if I could just find the right words, people would see my heart, my intentions, me. But I’ve learned that some people are committed to misunderstanding you, no matter what you say. And honestly? That’s not my burden to carry. Now, I choose my peace over proving a point. Silence is a response. Walking away is a response. Protecting my energy is a response. And more often than not, it’s the most powerful one.
You Are Allowed to Change Your Mind
For a long time, I felt like once I made a decision—whether about a career path, a relationship, a goal, or even a belief—I had to stick with it. Like changing my mind meant I was flaky, indecisive, or ungrateful. But life has taught me that growth requires flexibility. You’re allowed to want something different than you did five years ago, five months ago, or even five minutes ago. You’re allowed to realize that what once fit you perfectly now feels constricting. Evolution is a sign of wisdom, not weakness. So now, I give myself permission to pivot, to walk away, to rewrite the vision [my people know I am the Pivot Queennnnn]. Because staying in something just because I once said I would? That’s not loyalty, that’s self-betrayal. I also had a Managing Director years ago who said something so simple, but so profound: ”if you make a decision and you don’t like it, make another one.” And I’ve not looked back since!
What I'd Tell My Younger Self
If I could go back and sit with 27-year-old me, I’d grab her by the face, look her in the eyes, and tell her:
Girl, stop rushing. You are not behind. Life isn’t a race, and the best things aren’t on a deadline. No, you do not have the white picket fence or life you thought you wanted [because truly that was never your dream anyway]…but babyyyy, life gets so GOOD! Just be patient.
Trust yourself. You know more than you think you do. That feeling in your gut? It’s never been wrong.
You don’t have to be everything to everyone. Prioritize the people who pour into you as much as you pour into them. And also learn that it is okay to walk away no matter the relationship, time, or history.
Love yourself the way you love others. You deserve the same softness, grace, and patience you so freely give to everyone else.
That heartbreak won’t break you. I know it feels like the end of the world, but it’s actually the beginning of something so much better.
You don’t have to be liked by everyone [and shouldn’t want to be, honestly]. Hard stop.
Your worth isn’t tied to productivity. Rest. Breathe. You are enough as you are.
Say yes to new experiences, even if they scare you. Some of your best memories will come from things you almost talked yourself out of and you can't get to the life you truly want if you arent willing to do it scared.
Take up all the space. Stop making yourself smaller to fit into places that were never meant for you. Stop doubting yourself or attributing your successes on sheer luck. Walk boldly into rooms like you belong—because you do. You are exactly who you think you are!
You’re going to be okay. No, really. Even on the days when it doesn’t feel like it.
A Note to My Future Self
To the me who is older, wiser, and (hopefully) still fierce:
I hope you still make space for joy. I hope you remember that life isn’t just about what you accomplish, but also about how you feel while doing it. I hope you still protect your peace like it’s your most valuable asset because it is. I hope you know you are more than what you can do for others.
I hope you’re still laughing loudly and loving fully. I hope you remember the softness you fought so hard to keep. I hope you still find beauty in the everyday. I hope you never stop choosing yourself.
I hope you’ve remained open to love, to change, to the possibility that life can surprise you in ways better than you imagined.
And if you ever forget how far you’ve come, look back at this moment. At this version of you—the one who made it through every challenge, every doubt, every hard day. You’ve always been capable of more than you realize. You made it here. And that’s something to be proud of.
Closing Thoughts: 37 & Ready for More
I’ve always welcomed growing older because it is a blessing and a privilege to see a new year, so this year is no different.
What is different? This season of life isn’t about proving myself—it’s about enjoying myself. It’s about being intentional with my energy, my time, and my love. It’s about living in a way that feels aligned, not just accomplished.
There’s a deep peace that comes with knowing you don’t have to rush, prove, or perform for anyone. Life in my late 30s isn’t about striving, it’s about settling into myself fully, completely, audaciously.
So here’s to 37. Here’s to the years ahead. More love, more joy, more freedom, and more me.
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