BLESSINGS TO THE LATE BLOOMER
I turned 40 last year, and to be honest, I didn’t do much of anything. I started a new job and was simply trying to grasp the fact that I was 40, grappling with the feeling that I hadn’t accomplished what I thought I should have. It felt like I was licking my proverbial wounds while hiding any inkling of a desire for something more. What is a 40-year-old woman with no kids and no spouse supposed to do with herself? I told myself to focus on my work within the community and the opportunities that were readily available to me, believing they were meant to be mine—God-given chances. Yet, I couldn’t ignore the deep desire for something more, a longing I believe God instilled in me as well.
Reflecting on this, I realized how much of my life I had spent waiting—waiting for it to finally be my turn. Only recently did I come to understand that I could have jumped in at any time and pursued what I felt ready for. The truth was, I wasn’t ready. Instead, I complained and asked for things I didn’t truly want. It seemed like everyone around me was voicing their frustrations, so I joined in. Isn’t that what we often do when we feel disconnected from what we truly desire?
This realization brought me to another truth: I am a late bloomer. But I use this term not as a self-criticism but as a reflection of my journey. Society often makes you feel out of sync when you don’t conform to its expectations, but I don’t see being a late bloomer as derogatory. To me, it signifies that growth and movement are still happening, even if they’re on a slower timeline. The real danger isn’t being late; it’s being stagnant. Yet, it’s easy to feel lost when you don’t fit into the categories society has created—categories that often ignore the nuances of the human psyche.
This understanding brought me peace. Like flowers, we all bloom beautifully and differently, in our own season. Flowers don’t bloom until they’re ready, and their readiness depends on their environment. For us, it’s a combination of our surroundings and our inner state. Why was I comparing myself to others—others who might have started with more advantages, or who might be struggling with challenges I couldn’t handle? My life is my life, and your life is yours.
As I embrace this perspective, I can feel my own bloom beginning. I’m learning what truly works for me and am practicing the discipline of not looking to the left or the right. Proverbs 4:25-27 reminds me: “Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee. Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established. Turn not to the right hand nor to the left; remove thy foot from evil.” I’ve come to see the “evil” in this scripture as the negativity and self-comparison that arise when we lose sight of our own path. Straying from it often leads us toward things that aren’t good for us.
Today, on my 41st birthday, I feel ready to share these reflections. Perhaps they would have felt more appropriate last year, but I wasn’t in the right space to embrace them then. And that’s okay. I refuse to force anything for the sake of appearances. Embrace your timeline. Love your timeline. Revel in it because it’s yours. The act of blooming—whether early or late—is beautiful in its own right.
Happy 41st to me!
