Turning 40: A Privilege I Was Never Promised

Today I turn 40. And if I’m honest — for a girl born with Spina Bifida in rural West Clare, this birthday is something I was never guaranteed.

I’m Siobhan Mungovan. Born with Spina Bifida, a condition that affects the spine and nervous system, and often accompanied by Hydrocephalus. From the very beginning, doctors set out a list of things I “would never do.” I’d never walk. I’d never live independently. I’d certainly never see milestones like this. They didn’t know me very well, did they?

Growing up with Spina Bifida meant navigating a world that was often physically and socially built without people like me in mind. I faced scoliosis, mobility challenges, and then at just 19 years old, chronic kidney failure changed everything all over again. I learned to adapt, to redefine “normal,” and to keep smiling — even when smiling was the hardest thing to do.

I co-wrote my first book, Me and My Backbone, in 2014 to share what life with Spina Bifida is really like. Then in 2023, I published I Smiled Back The Story Nobody Knows, diving deeper into disability, body image, relationships, and everything society rarely talks about openly. Today I work as a Mind Coach, Advocate helping others turn inward, find their resilience, and recognise that worth isn’t defined by a body’s shape or speed.

Here’s the truth I’ve learned: getting older is a privilege. Not everyone gets to. When you’ve lived with health challenges your whole life — when you’ve been told your timeline might be shorter birthdays aren’t about wrinkles or numbers. They’re proof you’re still here, still growing, still fighting to be seen.

Yet society tells us a very different story. We’re flooded with messages about “fighting the signs of ageing,” about shrinking back, about apologising for taking up space as we get older. For disabled women especially, ageism is layered on top of ableism — as if our bodies weren’t already “othered” enough. We’re told to be grateful just to exist, but never to be proud of having lasted.

I’m here to say: let’s stop treating ageing like something to be ashamed of.

Turning 40 with Spina Bifida hasn’t been easy. My body changes differently than most. Fatigue hits harder. Joints ache. Medical appointments are routine. But every challenge has carved out a little more resilience, a little more clarity, and a whole lot less patience for other people’s expectations of how I should look or move or age.

This decade isn’t about decline. It’s about everything I’ve survived making me wiser, kinder, and more certain of what matters. It’s about knowing that beauty standards and age limits are just opinions and mine counts for more.

So this is my invitation to you: celebrate the years you’ve been given. Whether you’re disabled or not, remember that growing older is a luxury denied to many. Let’s stop hiding it, dreading it, or apologising for it. Let’s wear our age like the badge of honour it is because it means we’re still here, still standing, still smiling back.

Here’s to 40. And to proving that the best chapters aren’t the ones with perfect health they’re the ones where you choose to keep going, no matter what.