Dinner at 45 Was Never Just About the Dinner
Why sitting at the table of life, love, and loss at this age is the real five-course meal.
They say dinner is where we feed the body, but at 45 and let’s be honest, well before and beyond that it’s the table where we start feeding the soul. “Dinner at 45” was never just about roasted chicken and wine or table settings with name cards and candlelight. It’s about sitting down with a life that has already served up its fair share of sweetness and spice, sometimes with a side of heartbreak, and always with lessons that linger long after dessert.
At 45, we’re not rushing to impress. We’re not begging for a seat. We’ve built the damn table. And with every chair pulled out beside us, whether filled with a partner, a child, a memory, or a void we’re tasting the full five-course meal of what it means to be fully, beautifully alive.
The Appetizer: Curiosity and Cracks
The first course isn’t always glamorous. Sometimes it’s the dry salad of our 20s dating, marriage, motherhood, mistakes. We nibble at ambition, chew on insecurities, and try to stomach societal expectations. But we’re curious. Hopeful. Starving for what’s ahead. We don’t yet know that life will not follow a perfect menu. And maybe that’s the gift.
The Soup: Comfort in the Unexpected
Then comes the warmth maybe a great love, a child, a career, a second chance. It’s in this bowl where we learn to savor. Where we cling to comfort and begin to understand the layers of flavor we never noticed before. Sometimes, it’s broth with a bitter backstory. Sometimes, it’s rich with new beginnings. And at 45, we finally start learning how to season it ourselves.
The Main Course: Love, Loss, and the Layers in Between
This is the plate that takes the longest to prepare and the longest to digest. The heartbreak. The betrayal. The rebuilding. The nights spent on the kitchen floor wondering if we’ve lost ourselves forever. But also the laughter. The healing. The rediscovering of who we are when no one’s watching. This course is messy and magnificent. And by now, we’ve learned to eat it slowly, intentionally.
The Side Dishes: Friendships, Boundaries, Forgiveness
Here’s where the table gets full. The girlfriends who bring over wine and stay until midnight. The ones who leave and teach us how to let go. The boundaries we finally set. The forgiveness we give, even when it’s never asked for. The freedom in learning that not every plate needs to be passed around. Some are just ours to keep.
Dessert: Joy Even When It’s Bittersweet
At this age, dessert isn’t just sugar. It’s the sweetness of a moment with your person. It’s the sound of your child laughing down the hall. It’s the silence after chaos, the softness of starting again, and the joy of knowing you’ve survived things that once tried to break you. You’ve earned every bite. You’ve stirred joy into your own recipe.
So no, Dinner at 45 was never just about the dinner. It’s about sitting at the table of life, unafraid to taste it all. It’s about toasting to what we’ve lost, what we’ve found, and what we’re still becoming.
The real feast is in the stories. The scars. The survival.
And darling, we’re still hungry.