I turned 40 last year (Year of the Rat, rise up!).

For my thirtieth birthday, I had a big ol’ house party—30 or so people, lots of food and booze, DIY photobooth, and staying up until the wee, wee hours singing karaoke.

My beloved dog had just died, so I asked for donations to the Humane Society in lieu of gifts, and I baked dog bone-shaped shortbread cookies (I was grieving!) for grown-up loot bags.

My in-between birthdays are pretty low-key, usually involving dinner out and a few gifts from my nearest and dearest, but I wanted to mark 40 with some kind of celebration.

A decade on from turning 30, I had way fewer friends (and my desire for a big party was equally diminished), but I knew I wanted to ring in the big 4-0 with love and joy.

I pondered a bunch of ideas, from taking a big trip to renting out a bowling alley. I contemplated asking my besties to go camping so I could ring in my birthday under the stars. (They would have done it for love, but they also would have hated it, so I took that off the table.).

After months of pondering, I realized I was making it too complicated. More than anything, I wanted to do something fun, low-key, and unfussy. I made a list of the things I wanted, and then my husband and I crafted a birthday weekend around my wish list. The list was:

• Close friends
• Champagne
• Delicious, simple food
• Karaoke (some things never change)
• Breakfast in bed
• Nature/being by the lake

Since my birthday fell on a Sunday, I made use of the whole weekend and then some. On Thursday, we hosted a small dinner/karaoke party at our place. We ate delicious Italian-inspired small plates, and then my husband picked up pizzas from our favourite local spot. My bestie’s mother is a baker, so she made me a gorgeous naked vanilla cake and we had champagne and karaoke tunes flowing (Proud Mary truly brought down the house).

The night ended with Aperol Spritzes and a game of Codenames, and my guests headed home with painted chocolate truffles because I will never give up on loot bags.

On Friday, Dane and I met up with some out-of-town friends and their girls to spend a night camping. We hiked, beached, made s’mores, and had drinks around the fire when the babies were in bed.

On Sunday, I woke up at home to breakfast in bed and spent the day reading birthday cards, opening gifts, and lounging around with my little family. It was relaxed, fun, and felt like the perfect celebration for me.

Turning 40 has a reputation for being a scary birthday, but I welcomed it with open arms. The year before, my friend died of ovarian cancer at 42, so it was easy to view living and aging as a deep privilege. (If you can locate this acceptance without a dear friend dying, I’d highly recommend that route.).

I actually wasn’t worried about having a turning-40 crisis. I spend my days with people in their late-teens and early-20s so I don’t romanticize youth. People in their 20s are wonderful in many ways; I enjoy teaching them, but I don’t want to be them. Being in your 20s is hard (even harder than it was 20 years ago, I think), and I have found being in my 40s to be much smoother sailing, despite confronting much more hardship. I wouldn’t trade the life skills, resilience, and perspective I’ve accumulated over the last 20 years for more collagen. Be 40, it’s awesome.

Party-wise, my best advice is to worry less about how others celebrated their milestone birthday and instead reflect on what would make it meaningful for you. I’m a list girl, so making a wish list helped me create a framework for my celebrations.

Some people want to do something low-key, for example, my introverted husband wanted to splash out on omakase with me, but otherwise declined to celebrate. Others want to do it up in a big way, like my friend who rang in her 40th by taking a two-week trip to Paris and London.

My second best advice is don’t wait for someone else to make your celebration happen. If there is something you want, big or small, ask for it. Waiting for others to celebrate you in exactly the way you want is a recipe for disappointment. I can promise you that my delight in having a birthday breakfast in bed was not diminished by having expressed that wish to my husband.

This year, for 41, I was back to my usual tricks: a few gifts, dinner out, and generally being grateful for another turn around the sun.

However you choose to celebrate (or not), happy birthday!