is 42. At least, that's what Douglas Adams told us it was in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
I turn 42 , which I suppose makes me old enough to know a thing or two about life, the universe, and everything but, if I'm being honest, I don't feel like I do. There is so much I don't know. So much I don't understand.
A lot has changed lately. I'm living on my own for the first time since 2002. I'm solo parenting half the time, and trying to get to know myself again the other half of the time. What will my life look like in a year? In five? Five years ago, almost to the day, I publicly came out as trans. Five years from now? How can I possibly guess?
And… that's okay. I guess what I can say at 42 is that I'm more comfortable with uncertainty than I used to be. ∎