What do I do with myself, Maria?

- About entering midlife

In August, I'll turn 38. I'm getting very close to 40. These ages that change the first digit make you think a lot, don't they? Or society does. When I was 8, they told me I'd soon become a "young lady." I, who wasn't a big fan of that life, was very saddened by the prophecy that I would spend more time in this complicated place called Earth. At 18, they told me I'd soon become an adult. By then, I had already understood that growing up can be super cool and liberating. And I really wanted to move beyond that limiting youth. At 28, they told me that, finally, I needed to find myself and fit in. Career, own house, marriage, children, fixed-income investments, please! At that time, I was still wavering between what they told me and what I thought I should tell myself. Well, Saturn's return is coming in full force. At 38, they tell me that the "age of reason" is approaching. Midlife. I think that little girl who prayed to die before the age of ten would find such a concept, at the very least, curious. Midlife? So there's all this again?! My God.

I think the best part of getting older is that we have to adapt to who we are. Or accept it. There comes a point where you can no longer run away, follow maps, swallow doctrines. And look, it wasn't ill will. We tried so hard! It's just that we can't interpret anymore. There's a certain urgency for inner liberation in this so-called Sartrean age of reason. Before, the escape was outward; now, it's inward.

I've always been enthusiastic about the aging process. Perhaps because I came from a very difficult youth. Or perhaps because I see an irrefutable possibility of refinement over the years. An alchemy that needs time to transmute itself. I, who always considered myself ahead of my time, needed to learn about the biological limitations of my life. There are certain things that can't be rushed. Like fruit that doesn't ripen before its time. This way of life brings me this warm feeling of reaching a point that could not have been reached before.

Looking at 28-year-old Aline is like watching someone as a television viewer. Between laughs, little screams of: "Oh no, you didn't do that! Someone put this girl in rehab!" (slap in the face), tears of emotion, and applause of admiration. Will my 48-year-old self do that? Who knows.

" You gave everything to be free. Abandon your own freedom and you will have everything back. " – Sartre