Biomolecular Chaos and Other Fun Surprises

It’s the end of my birthday month, and all throughout September I’ve been thinking about aging.

For me, birthdays are checkpoints that I usually breeze through. I don’t love big celebrations. Give me a nice meal, something sweet, and a good movie, and I’m happy.

But this year, the universe decided to give me something extra. Not just cake.

I got biomolecular chaos. 😵‍💫🧬

I recently read a Stanford Medicine article that explained something I’d already been feeling: our bodies don’t just age gradually; they shift dramatically in waves. Researchers found that in our 40s and again in our 60s, we experience massive biomolecular changes. Essentially, our systems flip a switch, and suddenly everything feels different.

And, boy, do I feel it.

I think my switch actually got flipped last year. Over the past 12 months, my body has been whispering (and sometimes screaming) new messages. Things that used to feel easy now feel harder. Recovery takes longer. Food hits differently. And for the first time, I had a real medical emergency. I won’t get into the details, but it landed me in the ER and took me nearly two weeks to recover. We still don’t know exactly what happened, and that uncertainty has been the hardest part. Sometimes, the body just shifts in ways you can’t explain, and all you can do is pay attention and roll with it.

But even without the big scare, there are the everyday reminders that midlife has arrived.

The Weird Little Shifts

• Late-Night Recovery. I used to stay out late, crash for a few hours, and be fine the next morning. Now one late night wrecks me for three days with naps and electrolytes required.
• Food Rebellion. Fried food? Once a treat, now a belly-ache. Two glasses of wine? I’m ready for bed.
• Vision Betrayal. I can't read a restaurant menu without holding it at arm’s length, as if I'm performing an exorcism. And sometimes I have to use my iPhone flashlight. Sorry.
• The Grandma Incident. Out with my sister’s kids, someone called me the grandma. Mid-40s is many things, but grandma isn’t one. WTF indeed. I’m still recovering.

Between Biology and Identity

But maybe the hardest part of aging isn’t always the physical stuff. It’s the identity shift.

Inside, I feel the same. I still love music loud, I still laugh too hard at dumb jokes, I still get excited about new projects and big dreams. But the outside world doesn’t always see that anymore. Strangers see “ma’am.” (Some see “grandma" – grrr!) My body sometimes insists I’m older than I feel.

That disconnect is jarring.

Aging also reshapes ambition. In my 20s and 30s, I thrived on hustle, late nights, constant forward motion. In my 40s, I don’t crave that pace anymore. I want energy, yes, but not at the cost of peace. I want productivity, but not at the expense of joy.

Friends my age talk about the same things. Sometimes it’s in hushed tones, complaining about aches, about sleep, about digestion. Sometimes it’s with humor as we trade stories and laugh about how long it takes us to recover from “just a fun night out.”

There’s also this strange dance between visibility and invisibility. In public, sometimes it feels like I’ve become less noticeable. No longer “young and promising,” not yet “wise elder.” Floating in the middle. But sometimes that invisibility is freeing, too. You get to move through the world without as much pressure.

Culture, Science & Expectations

The Stanford research gave me relief: this isn’t weakness, and this isn’t just me falling apart. This is biology. These shifts are written into the human body.

What makes it harder, though, is culture. We’re obsessed with “anti-aging.” Serums, supplements, treatments, endless promises to keep us looking 29 forever. The language itself is toxic: anti-aging, as if aging is the enemy.

In other traditions, aging is honored. Wrinkles are badges, gray hair is respected, midlife is when wisdom and experience finally shine. Here, aging is something we’re supposed to fight, hide, deny. No wonder it feels so lonely sometimes.

But what if, instead of anti-aging, we thought of it as pro-aging? What if we celebrated each shift as proof that we’ve lived, learned, survived?

How I’m Choosing to Respond

I can’t stop biomolecular chaos. I can’t make late-night recovery time bounce back to what it was at 22. I can’t un-hear “grandma.”

But I can choose how I respond.

• Listening to my body: Rest when I need it, water when I forget, stretching before I creak too loudly.
• Energy over productivity: I’ve stopped glorifying exhaustion. The nap always wins.
• Gratitude for what works: My body still carries me. It still lets me dance in the kitchen, walk long distances, roll on the floor with my dog. That counts.
• Humor as medicine: I’m learning to laugh at the absurdity. Readers on a chain? Not yet. But I’ve definitely been googling "cute readers" a lot this year.

Embracing Midlife with Curiosity

So here I am, in my mid-40s, closing out a birthday month that feels more like a turning point than a party. The biomolecular chaos is real, the weird little shifts are undeniable, and the medical scares are humbling.

But here’s the thing: it also feels like a beginning. A new chapter. Not pretending I’m the same as I was at 30, but embracing who I am now with more honesty, more humor, and more curiosity about what comes next.

Since aging is inevitable then I’d rather meet it head-on. With gratitude. With curiosity. With laughter. And maybe with a pair of readers tucked in my bag.