This year is my last in my forties. From now on, I’ll be checking a new box on every form I fill out. I never thought I’d say it, but I’m excited.

I feel like I’m leaving a chapter behind, but at the same time, I continue this journey of self-discovery. It’s a constant process of figuring out what brings me peace and what takes it away; being amazed by the simplicity of the things that make me happy and those that make me sad. It’s about letting go of those stories I’ve told myself for years that no longer serve me. It’s about finding new projects that excite me and, above all, identifying which moments and people I want to invest my most valuable asset in: my time.

Of course, my children take up the biggest slice of that pie. I’ve become a spectator and cheerleader in the front row of their young adult lives, watching them create their own circles and write their own stories.

That slice of pie, of course, wouldn’t be enjoyed the same without my life partner, that unconditional shoulder who has been by my side for more than 30 years. Over this time, we’ve grown and evolved together, always moving in the same direction. Even though it surprises me sometimes, I see us so different now, but at the same time, we’re still the same. Sharing life with someone for so long is something extremely special, and I feel so lucky.

But I wouldn’t be who I am today without three people who have flooded my life with magic, memories, and opportunities. They are my parents and my brother, my anchor. They are that beach where I can drift ashore anytime, no matter how or where I come from. On that beach was also my grandmother, whom I miss so much. The distance hurts, missing out on everyday moments, but that’s the life of those who go abroad: it involves sacrifices, and this has been the biggest one.

None of this would make sense without another crucial ingredient in this big dessert I’m inventing as I keep writing. Let’s call it the "cherry on top," but truly, it’s that special touch that makes life even more magnificent: friends. That first childhood friend I’ll never forget, with whom I shared books and gymnastics in the backyard. Then, in adolescence, those friends who need no explanations, who know my story like the back of their hand, and with whom time never passes. Later came my beloved college friends. That time when you feel invincible and independent, but you still run to your mom’s arms if you need to. A refuge I still return to, no matter how many years go by.

Later, when I moved to another country, I found friends who shared the same uprooting experience, not knowing we’d accompany each other through one of the most crucial stages of our lives: motherhood. We saw each other become moms, supporting each other through losses, achievements, and failures. We’ve been there for the deep homesickness and in trying to rationalize cultural differences that still throw us off. We’ve spent countless hours on the phone figuring out remedies for colic or the kids’ coughs, combining the wisdom of the American doctors with the remedies of our grandmothers—both wise, both effective.

Endless afternoons in the park, where conversations flowed despite interruptions to make the kids swing faster. Interruptions we now remember with joy and nostalgia. Celebrations that ended with dancing until dawn, endless toasts to our friendship, and laughter that seemed to never stop. Today, we learn together how to let go of our children and accompany each other in the pain that comes with it, especially coming from such a different experience. Today, we give each other invaluable worth in our lives, enjoying those thousands of conversations that have taught me so much.

That’s why I’m starting this last year of my forties by sharing these moments with them, enjoying them to the fullest during two girlfriend trips I’m sure will be unforgettable and will wrap up this great decade that’s ending and the one that’s about to begin.

And as always, enjoying these moments with friends is even better when we do it responsibly. Moderation allows us to keep making memories while taking care of ourselves and each other. And let’s always remember each other that when we take time for ourselves to be a better mom, what we are saying is I love you. Cheers to that!