40💫

Last week, I texted a friend something that has stayed with me ever since. I don’t know how I’ve lived so much life. I don’t feel old, but forty years is a long time on this earth. And that is honestly exactly how it feels.

So many people reach forty and panic. But the truth is, I do not feel my age, and I refuse to let a number define how I move through the world. That feels important to say out loud. Maybe that makes me delusional. Maybe some people feel older than they are. Maybe others feel younger. All I know is this, I am here, I am present, and I am deeply aware of how fortunate I am to be standing exactly where I am.

Sure, I look in the mirror and notice that gravity has made herself a little more comfortable than she was five years ago. I see it. I feel it. But I also know I will never be younger than I am right now, and that alone feels like a reason to celebrate. Especially because this past year and a half has felt like a turning point. A stride. A season where things began to click in a way they never fully had before.

My 30s were about navigating. About unraveling. About doing the quiet, difficult work and learning through the mess of it all. And now, on the other side of that, I feel clearer. More rooted. More myself. I am finding my voice and trusting it. That feeling, more than the number itself, is what shaped the night we gathered to celebrate.

On the day before I turned forty, the thought kept returning, this is the last day of my 30s. It didn’t feel heavy, just honest. I found myself reflecting on how much that decade asked of me, how much I learned quietly, without applause, without certainty. It wasn’t grief that surfaced. It was gratitude for a chapter that shaped me in ways I couldn’t have understood while I was living it.

The evening of my party the day after my birthday came together quickly, but with so much intention. I worked with Bon Bash, a husband and wife owned event company run by Cadie and Xavier, who I’ve known through work for years and who recently moved up to the area and launched this new chapter of their business. There is something I will always be drawn to about husband and wife partnerships, and watching them bring this night to life in just over a week felt like a reminder of what is possible when you trust the people you work with. Their professionalism, creativity, and calm ability to pull together something so layered and thoughtful still amazes me.

I wore this Self-Portrait dress that felt unapologetically celebratory, overdone in exactly the way the night deserved. With Dannijo earrings and Nicolas Kirkwood heels (sold out: dupes here), it felt like a declaration. Not just of style, but of presence, confidence, and comfort in who I am at this moment and who I want to look back on years from now and feel inspired by.

The setting did the rest. The venue, Lost Fox Inn, already carries so much warmth and character with its layered, textured interiors. With a few intentional floral moments by Sarah Worden Natural Design and thoughtful decorative details, the space came alive in a way that felt both glamorous and inviting. The theme naturally evolved into Casino Royale meets St. Moritz, partly inspired by the fact that it was minus five degrees and, as always, the coldest day of the year on my birthday. At the center of it all was an ice sculpture shaped as a very literal forty, complete with a caviar and vodka shot basin that became the heartbeat of the room. Calvisius Caviar anchored that moment, equal parts playful and indulgent, and it set the tone for the night perfectly.

As the evening unfolded, people drifted from room to room, lingering longer than planned. A blackjack table and dealer kept everyone laughing, while poker tables invited conversation and connection. Judy, our character artist, spent the night drawing couples and guests, capturing small moments that felt intimate and personal, the kind of keepsake you tuck away and find years later.

Dinner was served family style, exactly the way I love to gather. Plates passed, conversations overlapped, and the room hummed with warmth. When it came time for dessert, I skipped a traditional cake. I’ve never really been a cake person, so instead we chose a croquembouche, sweet, crisp, and absolutely delicious.

And as the evening unfolded, what stayed with me was not the moment itself, but the feeling beneath it. A sense of ease. Of alignment. Of being surrounded by people who make the present feel steady and the future feel open.

Photos by Ashley Nicole