I’ve been asked this question more times than I can count over the past few months:
“So what are you doing for your 40th?”
And every time, I’d pause.
Not because I didn’t care about the milestone. Not because I didn’t want to honour it.
But because I wasn’t ready to answer in a way that felt true.
Truthfully, I hadn’t given it much thought.
Not because I was indifferent, but because—like so many women carrying the weight of life—I had a thousand other things on my plate. And none of them were iced in buttercream or sprinkled with glitter.
🍽 The Indigestibles
At the time, my plate was overflowing with what I now call “indigestibles”—
Things that didn’t nourish me, didn’t belong to me, but still took up space.
Loose ends from legal battles.
Both the divorce trial and the maintenance trial were finally wrapped up in the past few months. (Thank You, Jesus)
The invisible emotional labour of attempting to co-parent—but needing to parallel parent.
A lot of surviving. Rebuilding. Planning. Breathing.
So when someone asked, “Are you having a party?”
I felt it in my gut.
Not the joy of planning—but the ache of obligation.
Every question pushed me further away from wanting to do anything at all.
Because it felt like everyone was expecting a celebration.
But no one was asking if I even wanted one.
🎈The Performance of Celebration
Somewhere along the way, we were sold this idea that milestone birthdays must be performed.
I’ve been noticing more and more how society has conditioned us to celebrate milestones through spending. Weddings, baby showers, big birthdays—balloons, bills, and bottomless brunches… and for what?
To pour money into a single day that looks good in pictures but doesn’t actually shift your life forward?
But what if celebration looks different for a woman who’s spent the past few years watching her life burn down—and rebuilding it, brick by honest brick?
What if quiet reflection is more sacred than a loud affair?
What if presence is the party?
I’ve been sitting with this feeling for months now, and I’ve come to realise…
I didn’t think I wanted the 40th birthday helium balloon.
At that point, I was still processing…
📆 18 July: Three Weeks to Go
On the 18th of July—exactly three weeks before my birthday—something shifted.
My best friend asked me again, gently,
“But Kim… what would you like to do?”
That night, I sat with it.
I reached out to an old high school friend who’s now a DJ—just to explore the idea. Maybe a dinner with dancing… something light, something joyful, something me.
He sent me venue ideas, and for a moment, I felt that familiar tingle of excitement return.
I love to dance. Always have.
A week later, I created a WhatsApp group titled “New Chapter Celebration.”
Two weeks to my birthday…
The plan? Invite a few pivotal women in my life—those who’ve held me, shaped me, challenged me, witnessed me. Some who are still waiting for that “divorce party” I never had (lol—another societal performance I never felt the need for).
But then…
I never added anyone to the group.
I realised I was making plans for someone else.
Was this truly what I wanted?
I was going through the motions… and still processing.
Was this truly what I wanted?
I didn’t think I wanted the 40th birthday helium balloon.
🧩 Puzzle Pieces That Don’t Fit
The women I wanted to invite?
They were all powerful puzzle pieces—but from completely different boxes.
Beautiful souls.
But they wouldn’t mix.
Different ages. Different energies. Different lifestyles and beliefs.
They represent different seasons of my life—of growth, healing, and daily living.
I’ve gone deep on this healing journey and forged strong bonds with phenomenal women. Others I feel potential with—like we’re still meant to experience something meaningful together.
I know God placed each one into my life for a reason.
I am the common thread.
But I didn’t want to be the glue.
Not this time. Not for this.
I didn’t want to host something where friends don’t align or where family dynamics feel forced.
I’m at peace with everyone separately, and that’s enough for me.
And I circled back to the truth I’d already whispered to myself:
An event doesn’t sit well with me.
And I promised myself:
No more performances.
🗣 The Conversation That Anchored Me
A few days later, I had a completely unexpected conversation with another pivotal person—someone I believe God sent to help us both move forward on our own healing paths.
He asked me:
“Anything in particular that entertains you?”
I blinked.
No one had asked me that in a while.
I thought back…
Before 2017, my birthdays were club nights, braais, and alcohol.
Noise. Distraction. Stimulation.
Not presence. Not embodiment.
But once the unravelling began, so did my return to myself.
One year, I went acrobranching—flying between treetops with family.
Another, a costume murder mystery dinner—quirky, fun, unforgettable.
Last year, I was meant to go dancing… but caught a cold. Still, I danced a little, because my body needed it.
But when I reflected honestly, I realised something:
I loved the dancing.
But not the club.
Not the vibe. Not the alcohol. Not the energy.
What I wanted was:
Connection. Laughter. Movement. Joy.
So I told him: “I’ve always wanted to learn salsa dancing.”
And that’s when it clicked.
💃 The Real Celebration
Instead of the original dinner-and-dancing idea, I’ve decided to plan a salsa night later in August—a soulful evening of movement and celebration.
A toast not just to me, but to all of us who are walking through fire and still finding ways to dance.
No alcohol required.
No performances.
Just real, connected joy.
🛠 The Gifts I’m Giving Myself
During my 40th year, I’m giving myself three intentional gifts—things that serve me far beyond one big celebration. Each is a symbol of my rebirth.
- Spray-painting my car
My car has been my chariot—faithfully carrying me and my girls through every season of life.
It was once shared. It was once neglected. It got scratched, dented, ignored.
But slowly, I’ve been restoring it—just like I’ve been restoring me.
Now, it’s time for a fresh coat of paint.
A new skin. A new story.
Because we both deserve to shine again.
- Transforming my old tattoo
There’s a piece of ink on my back that tells a story I’ve outgrown.
I’m turning it into something powerful—
Two birds…
Symbols of flight. Of rising. Of vision and fire.
Because I’m not erasing who I was.
I’m transforming her.
- Booking our world-schooling flights
If there’s one thing I know for sure—it’s that I want to raise my daughters in truth, presence, and global wisdom.
Our upcoming trip isn’t just a dream.
It’s a declaration.
Every cent I save, every decision I make, is moving us closer.
Booking those tickets will be the loudest celebration of all.
Oh, and there’s also the advanced driving course I’ve been eyeing—I literally want to feel like I’m in a Fast & Furious movie (yes, I love me some Vin Diesel with that husky voice 😂). But that dream will wait for later in my 40th year when the budget allows
✨ And Then Most Importantly… the Biblical Perspective:
In the Bible, the number 40 is never small.
- 40 days of flood before the earth was cleansed.
- 40 years in the wilderness before entering the promised land.
- 40 days Jesus fasted before stepping into His ministry.
It’s a number that signals testing, preparation, and then transformation.
I am at that 40th year… all the lessons have been learnt… And I am SO ready for this new chapter to unfold.
🎁 Plot Twist
Three days before my 40th, I was asked if I could keep my girls overnight on my birthday, because their dad needed to work.
That threw a spanner in my plan to have our traditional birthday dinner and then drop them off so I could go home and vegetate lol…
So I decided: let me just reach out to my besties, who were keen to do something anyway, and just do dinner.
My girls wanted to celebrate with me—and they wouldn’t understand my philosophies yet.
They will one day though…
But for now, it’s my job to fill their cups.
Not everyone else’s.
But definitely theirs.(Oh—and my aunt insisted on a high tea on Sunday 😅 I’m choosing my battles. This is not one of them. I did manage to bring her down from 10 people to just 3 though lol.)
It’s my job to fill their cups.
🌿 This Is 40
So here I am—on the morning of my 40th birthday.
I’m in a liminal space…
Where old ways don’t fit anymore and the new ways aren’t fully formed yet.
But I know I’m birthing something more aligned.
I have no big birthday party.
No table of clinking champagne glasses.
No filtered photos for show.
But I have peace.
I have presence.
(And presents! My girls surprised me first thing with a huge basket of all my favourite snacks—most of which I’ll probably end up sharing with them 😂 strategic move!)
I have a deep knowing that I am no longer the woman I used to be.
I am walking into my promised land.
I am grateful.
And most importantly—
I am happy.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
💛 If you’re still reading this, thank you.
This is the first blog post after my 3-month break, and it needed to be this.
Raw. Real. Reflective. (And omw the podcast is 16 minutes long 🤪)
I’m not performing anymore.
I’m becoming.
And I invite you—whoever you are, wherever you are—to do the same.
Happy Happy Birthday to me! ❤🔥
#KreativeKim #DearDiary #Turning40 #Rebirth #IntentionalLiving #SoulfulReflections #MilestoneBirthday #NoMorePerformances #HealingJourney #ReclaimingMyLife #WomenInTransition #ThisIs40
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