Turning 40: What Changed, What Didn't, and What's Next
As this blog goes live, I'll be celebrating my 40th birthday at Machu Picchu.
That's a sentence that still feels strange to write.
Not because Peru wasn't on my bucket list.
It absolutely was.
But because when I was younger, I never spent much time thinking about what life would look like at 40.
I was too busy planning the next trip.
The next country.
The next adventure.
Looking back now, after 56 countries and nearly two decades of travel, some things have changed dramatically.
Travel has changed.
Technology has changed.
The world has changed.
And I've changed too.
But some things haven't changed at all.
I'm still curious.
I still chase sunsets.
And I'm still adding destinations to my bucket list faster than I can cross them off.
So as I start a new decade, it feels like the perfect time to look back on the journey so far—and wonder where the next one might lead.
My first solo trip to Barbados in 2008. I had no idea where life would take me. Looking back, I had no idea this was only the beginning.
What I Thought 40 Would Look Like
When I was younger, I had a fairly normal idea of what 40 would look like.
A stable career.
A house.
A few vacations every year.
The sort of life most people expect to have.
Instead, I'm spending my 40th birthday in Peru.
I've never really wanted the traditional path.
I've never dreamed about getting married or having children.
For some people, that's the dream.
For me, it wasn't.
My dreams looked different.
They looked like plane tickets.
New countries.
Ancient ruins.
Street food.
Hostels.
Sunsets.
And experiences that would eventually turn into stories.
That doesn't make my path better than anyone else's.
Just different.
The older I get, the more I realize that happiness looks different for everyone.
For me, it just happened to involve a passport.
At 28, I was focused on the next destination, not the next decade. Looking back, I never imagined how many adventures were still ahead of me.
The Life I Chose
For years, people told me I'd change my mind.
One day I'd want children.
One day I'd want to settle down.
One day I'd stop travelling and start looking for a different kind of life.
Maybe they were trying to be helpful.
Maybe they genuinely believed that every woman eventually wants the same things.
But the truth is, I never felt that pull.
While some people dreamed about weddings, I was dreaming about countries.
I chased sunsets in foreign places instead of walking down the aisle.
I spent my savings on plane tickets instead of furniture.
I collected passport stamps instead of baby names.
And honestly?
I've never regretted it.
I have friends who are married with children and genuinely love that life.
I love that for them.
But it was never the life I pictured for myself.
I don't think I ever stayed in one place long enough to give many relationships a real chance.
But if I'm being honest, I don't think I wanted to.
While other people were looking for "the one," I was busy figuring out which country to visit next.
I was chasing destinations, not boys.
Travel gave me something I valued deeply: freedom.
The freedom to move.
The freedom to explore.
The freedom to wake up one day and decide that my next chapter would be somewhere completely different.
Living in Asia made this difference even more obvious.
Older women would often look at me with confusion when they learned I wasn't married and didn't have children.
To them, I was missing something important.
But women closer to my age often reacted differently.
Sometimes I sensed curiosity.
Sometimes admiration.
Sometimes even a little envy.
Not because they wanted my exact life, but because they understood what freedom looked like.
Eventually, my family stopped asking when I was going to have children.
I think they realized I wasn't changing my mind.
My grandmother, bless her heart, used to tell me that I would regret not having children because nobody would be there to look after me when I got older.
My response was always simple:
"Bryce will have my back."
We already have a retirement plan.
One day, Bryce and I are going to open a coffee shop on a beach in Vietnam.
Although if we're being honest, there will probably be more beer than coffee.
Some people dream about retirement communities.
I dream about sunsets, sandy feet, and happy hour by the ocean.
Different dreams.
Different paths.
And that's okay.
Bryce and I have shared adventures, questionable decisions, and more laughs than I can count. Whatever comes next, I know we've got each other's backs.
What Changed About Travel
Travel itself has changed a lot over the last twenty years.
When I first started travelling, the world felt bigger.
Not because it actually was, but because information wasn't constantly available.
I used paper maps.
Actual paper maps.
If I got lost, I had to figure it out.
Sometimes that meant asking a local for directions. Sometimes it meant wandering around until I found where I was supposed to be.
Google Maps didn't exist in my pocket.
Travel apps weren't solving every problem.
And honestly, I kind of miss that sometimes.
Getting lost used to be part of the adventure.
Now I can land almost anywhere in the world, pull out my phone, and know exactly where I am within seconds.
Objectively, that's better.
But there was something exciting about not always knowing.
Social media has changed travel even more.
Twenty years ago, you learned about destinations through guidebooks, magazines, or conversations with other travellers.
Now everyone has travel advice.
There are blogs, YouTube channels, Instagram accounts, TikToks, Facebook groups, and influencers sharing recommendations.
Some of it is fantastic.
Some of it is complete nonsense.
And sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.
I often find myself wondering if people genuinely loved a place or if they're being paid to say they did.
Travel information is easier to find than ever before.
Trustworthy travel information? That's a little harder.
Another huge change is how much planning is required now.
When I started travelling, you could often show up and figure things out as you went.
Today, some of the world's most popular attractions need to be booked weeks or even months in advance.
We had to reserve attractions ahead of time in New York.
The same thing happened in Hawaii.
And Machu Picchu? You can't simply show up and buy a ticket anymore. You need to choose your date and time well in advance.
Part of me misses the spontaneity.
But another part of me understands why these systems exist.
More people are travelling than ever before.
Places need protection.
Crowds need management.
The world has become more connected.
Travel is easier, faster, and more accessible than it was when I started.
But it also feels a little less mysterious.
Hidden gems don't stay hidden for very long anymore.
A beautiful beach can become famous overnight.
A small café can suddenly have a line out the door because someone posted about it online.
Sometimes I miss discovering places before the internet did.
And then there are airplanes.
I don't know if it's me or the airlines, but I swear the seats have gotten smaller.
The legroom has definitely gotten smaller.
Airport benches seem specifically designed to stop tired travellers from stretching out during a layover.
Maybe I'm imagining it.
Maybe I'm getting older.
Or maybe the airlines are winning.
Probably the airlines.
Despite all of that, the feeling hasn't changed.
I still get excited when I book a flight.
I still love the moment the plane lifts off the runway.
And I still get that little spark of excitement when I arrive somewhere new and realize an adventure is about to begin.
My 30th birthday was spent crossing Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon off my bucket list.
What Changed About Me
When people hear that I've visited 56 countries and lived in 8 of them, they sometimes assume I must be fearless.
I'm not.
I still get nervous.
I still wonder if things are going to work out.
I still have moments where I look at a situation and think:
"Well... this might be a terrible idea."
The difference is that now I know I'll figure it out.
That's probably the biggest thing travel has given me.
Confidence.
Not the kind of confidence where you think nothing will go wrong.
The kind of confidence where you know you'll handle it when it does.
When I first moved to Australia, everything felt new.
I came from a small village where there were no subways, no giant transit systems, and no experience navigating big cities.
Suddenly, I was figuring out public transportation, finding jobs, opening bank accounts, and building a life on the other side of the world.
At the time, it felt overwhelming.
Now it feels normal.
Thailand taught me that lesson again.
It was the first country I lived in where English wasn't the primary language.
For the first time, I couldn't rely on understanding everything around me.
I couldn't read every sign.
I couldn't always communicate easily.
I couldn't assume things would work the same way they did back home.
But eventually, just like everything else, I adapted.
That's the funny thing about humans.
We're far more adaptable than we give ourselves credit for.
Travel taught me that most things aren't difficult.
They're just unfamiliar.
The older I get, the less I need everything to go perfectly.
Experience has taught me that most problems eventually become stories.
And sometimes the best memories come from the things that weren't supposed to happen in the first place.
At one time, figuring out public transportation felt overwhelming; now it's just part of the adventure.
What Didn't Change
For all the things that have changed over the last twenty years, a surprising amount hasn't.
People seem to assume that turning 40 comes with some magical transformation.
That one day you wake up and suddenly become a completely different person.
More serious.
More settled.
More mature.
Maybe that happens for some people.
It hasn't happened to me.
Don't get me wrong, I've learned a lot over the years.
I've gained confidence.
I've gained experience.
I've become much better at handling uncertainty.
But underneath all of that?
I'm still pretty much the same person.
I still get excited when I book a flight.
I still love meeting new people and hearing their stories.
I still love trying local food.
I still love wandering around a new city with no real plan.
I still love a good sunset.
Preferably with a drink in my hand.
I still love Disney.
I've spent more birthdays at Disney than most children.
I spent my 30th birthday crossing Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon off my bucket list.
I'm spending my 40th birthday at Machu Picchu.
Apparently, my birthday tradition is finding increasingly ridiculous places to celebrate.
I still dance.
I still enjoy a night out.
I still occasionally stay out later than I probably should.
I still say yes to spontaneous adventures.
Sometimes those adventures become incredible memories.
Sometimes they become stories that begin with:
"So... this might not have been my best decision."
Either way, they usually make good stories.
One thing I've never understood is the idea that getting older means giving up the things that make you happy.
Why would I stop being curious?
Why would I stop chasing experiences?
Why would I stop getting excited about the world?
If anything, travel has reinforced those parts of me.
I don't feel like I've outgrown adventure.
I feel like adventure grew with me.
The destinations changed.
The budgets changed.
The passport gained a few extra stamps.
But the excitement never left.
And honestly?
I hope it never does.
Proof that getting older hasn't stopped me from loving Disney.
The World Isn't What People Think It Is
If twenty years of travel has taught me one thing, it's that the world is not nearly as scary as people think it is.
That's probably not what most people expect a solo female traveller to say.
Every time I moved somewhere new, people had opinions.
Sometimes it was concern.
Sometimes it was curiosity.
Sometimes it was outright fear.
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"Weren't you scared?"
"How can you travel alone?"
I've heard those questions for most of my adult life.
And while I'm not reckless, my answer has always been fairly simple:
The world isn't as evil as people make it out to be.
That's not to say bad things don't happen.
They do.
I've made mistakes.
I've had difficult days.
I've found myself in situations I would rather not repeat.
But those moments are incredibly small compared to all the kindness I've experienced.
When I look back on my travels, I don't remember the scary headlines people warned me about.
I remember the people.
I remember strangers helping me find bus stations.
People translating conversations.
People pointing me in the right direction when I was lost.
People sharing meals, stories, and advice.
Over and over again, complete strangers chose kindness.
And that's what sticks with me.
Travel has shown me that most people are simply trying to live a good life.
They're working.
Taking care of their families.
Spending time with friends.
Laughing.
Dreaming about the future.
The more countries I visit, the more I realize how similar people really are.
The language changes.
The food changes.
The customs change.
But people?
People are people.
And after twenty years of travel, I still think that's one of the most beautiful things about this world.
The places are incredible, but it's the people you share them with that make them unforgettable.
What Travel Gave Me
When people think about travel, they often think about destinations.
The landmarks.
The photos.
The bucket-list moments.
And don't get me wrong, those things are incredible.
But when I look back on twenty years of travel, the places aren't the first thing that come to mind.
It's what travel gave me.
Travel gave me confidence.
It gave me independence.
It taught me how to adapt when things don't go according to plan.
It taught me how to be comfortable being uncomfortable.
It gave me stories that still make me laugh years later.
It gave me friendships that span continents.
It gave me memories I wouldn't trade for anything.
It even gave me a career I never planned on having.
Without travel, there would be no ESL teaching career.
Without travel, there would be no Unsettled JD.
Without travel, I wouldn't be the person writing this blog today.
Travel didn't just show me the world.
It changed the way I see it.
And perhaps more importantly, it changed the way I see myself.
For that, I'll always be grateful.
Old friends, new friends, and another unexpected adventure in Vietnam.
What's Next?
That's the question people keep asking me.
What's next?
The honest answer?
I have absolutely no idea.
And I think that's one of my favorite things about travel.
Twenty years ago, I thought Australia would be a six-month adventure.
It turned into two years.
One country became another.
Then another.
Then another.
Some trips were planned carefully.
Others happened because I met someone who said:
"You should go there."
And somehow, one adventure always seemed to lead to another.
If travel has taught me anything, it's that life rarely unfolds the way you expect it to.
If you had shown 20-year-old me a photo of Machu Picchu and told me I'd celebrate my 40th birthday there, I probably would have thought:
"That sounds amazing."
And then immediately asked:
"Wait... how am I paying for that?"
Because even back then, I wasn't worried about whether I could get there.
I just needed enough money and the right opportunity.
That's how most of my bucket list has worked.
I never looked at places like Egypt, Greece, Japan, Hawaii, or Peru and thought they were impossible.
I just thought:
"One day."
And eventually, that day arrived.
That's probably why my bucket list keeps getting longer.
Every time I visit a new country, I meet someone who tells me about another place I should see.
Another hike.
Another beach.
Another city.
Another adventure.
Instead of getting shorter, the list somehow grows.
And honestly?
I'm okay with that.
The dream was never to complete a list.
The dream was to keep exploring.
To keep learning.
To keep experiencing new places, new cultures, and new stories.
As this blog goes live, I'm probably walking through Machu Picchu.
Or standing somewhere nearby trying to take far too many photos.
Or wondering if the altitude is why I'm out of breath.
And while I'll definitely spend a few moments appreciating how lucky I've been to live this life, I already know what's going to happen next.
At some point, probably sooner rather than later, I'll start thinking about the next trip.
The next country.
The next dream.
At 20, I was curious about the world.
At 30, I was still chasing adventures.
At 40, not much has changed.
I still want to see what's around the next corner.
I still want to watch sunsets in places I've never been.
I still want to collect stories.
So here's to 40.
Here's to Peru.
Here's to all the places I've been lucky enough to see.
And here's to all the places still waiting their turn.
Because something tells me the best stories haven't happened yet.
— JD ✈️🌎🍻
One sunset, one birthday, and countless adventures still to come.
