Naomi wearing Ole Print TShirt jeans and silver glitter avarcas and holding bunch of balloons and

1979 was the year of “My Sharona” (you're singing it now aren't you), Trivial Pursuit and Mother Teresa received the Nobel Peace Prize. Anyone else hitting the big one this year?

When my mum turned 40 I thought it was soooooo old. I can still vividly remember her party, a celebration held the same hall we attended playgroup as small kids and my younger cousin Vanessa, who was fighting Leukemia, dancing and twirling with her naso-gastric tube swinging behind her (the things you remember)

Philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer once said, “The first forty years of life give us the text: the next thirty supply the commentary.” And boy do I have some text.

My 20s were jam-packed…I got married. Had two boys both born very premature and needing an immense amount of care. Co-founded a national charity. Moved from my home in Sydney to the Hunter Valley and worked part-time. But towards the end of my 20s things started to unravel, I wasn’t taking care of myself and it all came crashing down.

Most would call it a “nervous breakdown” but in all honesty, the term “nervous breakdown” doesn’t seem to do it justice. My body and mind gave out completely. My family rallied to help me heal; Mum spoon fed me Weetbix, my sis flew from NZ to hold my hand and hubby held the fort when I couldn’t bear to be on my own with the kids for weeks on end.

My 30s there was an immense amount of self-discovery, struggle, growth and adventure. I spent the better part of the decade learning to co-exist with anxiety and with a combo of medication, meditation and exercise we’re finally figuring each other out.

As I sit here today, the last day of my 30s, more comfortable in my own skin than ever, I’m excited to celebrate the journey I’ve had so far.

Totally ready to ring in this new decade and wishing for another 40 years and plus some!