Let’s put it out there: I became a mom at 40, and it was the best plot twist of my life.
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Gen Z, You’re My Heroes (And Here’s Why)
If you had told 20-year-old me that one day I’d be writing a love letter to a generation that thinks low-rise jeans should make a comeback… I would have spit out my Cosmopolitan (the drink AND the magazine). But here we are—and Gen Z, I adore you.
You know why? Because you have freed us from the shackles of fashion torture.
When I was your age, the rules were clear:
✨ Your boobs needed an underwire fortress.
✨ Your waist had to be squeezed like a Victorian fainting queen.
✨ Your feet? Oh honey, they had to suffer in toe-pinching heels so high they doubled as a workout.
And don’t get me started on eyebrows. We plucked them until they were barely a whisper on our foreheads—and then cried when they never grew back. Waxing, shaving, bleaching—if it grew, we ripped it out in the name of “beauty.”
But you, Gen Z? You said, “Nah, we’re good.”
You wear clothes that feel good on your skin.
You normalize sweatpants at brunch. You said goodbye to bras that poke and prod, and hello to bralettes, sports bras, or—gasp—no bra at all. You don’t dress for the male gaze, or even society’s approval. You dress for comfort and authenticity, and I LOVE that for you.
You know what this means?
My 5-year-old son will grow up seeing women who aren’t suffering for beauty. He’ll know that beauty isn’t pain—it’s confidence. And my Xenial heart could cry happy tears.
So Gen Z, keep doing you.
Keep rocking your oversized hoodies and chunky sneakers and skipping the underwire like a boss. You’ve given us permission to breathe—literally—and for that, you are my heroes.
Now if you could just… keep low-rise jeans in the archives, we’d really appreciate it.
XOXO,
A grateful Xenial who’s tossing (most of) her heels and underwire into the donation bin as we speak.
“Why Being a Mom Later in Life is the Best”
— a love letter to motherhood on your own terms.
1. My 20s Were for Being Wild and Glorious
My 20s were for the crazy, wild, free life everyone should have a chance to dance through. I wore sequins like armor, lived out of a suitcase, danced until sunrise, drank the cocktails, and kissed the strangers (sorry, Mom). I met my husband on an elevator in a hotel we were separately staying in on New Year’s Eve—I mean, could the universe be more dramatic?
We partied, we traveled, we lived. And because of all that, I have zero fear of missing out now. I've done the wild. I’ve been the wild. And now I get to bring that same adventurous, unapologetic energy into motherhood—without a hint of regret.
2. I Know Who I Am—and I Like Her...
After the glitter of my 20s and the grit of my 30s, I hit my 40s with clarity. I know what matters, I know what doesn’t, and I’m not afraid to say no to things that drain me (except chocolate, that still wins every time).
I’m not parenting from a place of fear or comparison—I’m parenting from a place of joy, gratitude, and “let’s make this weird and wonderful.”
3. Patience Isn’t Just a Virtue, It’s a Survival Skill
You don’t get through military deployments, house renovations, or toddler meltdowns without a truckload of patience. And by now? My truck is full.
When my son wants to explain the plot of a Lego cartoon for 37 straight minutes, I listen. When he spills juice for the third time in an hour, I mop it up and crack a joke. I don’t have the energy to overreact—which, oddly enough, makes everything a lot calmer and a lot more fun.
5. I’m Financially and Emotionally Ready
Do I still have anxiety? Of course. I’m a mom. But I’m not scrambling in the same way I would have been a decade or two ago. I’ve built a foundation—in my marriage, my career, and myself—and now I get to enjoy the incredible gift of sharing it with a little person who calls me “Mama.”
4. I Celebrate the Chaos
There’s something deliciously freeing about being an “older” mom. I show up to preschool pickup in leopard print and red lipstick. I do dance routines in the living room. I make up songs about broccoli. I’m not worried about looking cool—I am cool, because I don’t care if I’m cool.
Motherhood isn’t a performance—it’s a playground. And I’m on the swings.
Also, my son? Completely obsessed with Halloween.
His favorite movie is The Nightmare Before Christmas, and last year for Christmas, he asked Santa for a 12-foot animatronic scarecrow. And you better believe “Santa” assembled that terrifying thing in our living room at midnight on Christmas Eve—because if spooky joy is what brings your child delight, why not go big?
We did. Twelve feet big.
6. Gratitude is My Superpower
When you’ve been through loss—pregnancy loss, grief, years of wondering if you’ll ever be called “Mom”—you don’t take a single second for granted.
Every giggle, every sleepy cuddle, every marker-streaked drawing of our family is a treasure. I know how fragile life is. I know how sacred this role is. And I hold it close, even on the hard days.
So here’s to the late bloomers.
To the mamas who thought it might never happen.
To the ones who came to motherhood with laugh lines and lived-in hearts.
Being a mom later in life isn’t just good—it’s glorious.
Because I’ve been through enough to know what matters. And this? This right here—sticky hands, tiny socks, bedtime stories, and all—is the good stuff.
With love, glitter, and a side of pumpkin spice,
Gina Joy 🎃✨