When people talk about life in your 40s, they often rave about the IDGAF attitude. They mention rediscovering yourself, focusing on what truly matters, and letting go of all the nonsense. You’ve settled into who you are, they say. You’ve stopped caring about the trivial things. And that’s true—there’s definitely some of that.

But what no one seems to mention is how unsettling your 40s can also be. They can be confusing as hell and, at times, incredibly lonely.

And no one is really talking about it.

When my oldest son was born, I experienced a similar kind of loneliness. Most of my friends didn’t have kids yet, and those who did lived far away. Over time—and after enduring several awkward “mom dates” and painfully awkward mommy-and-me classes—I eventually found a solid group of friends. We had playdates while our babies crawled around, and those friendships grew as we endured swim lessons and endless t-ball games.

But now, with my kids firmly in the tween/pre-teen years, those friendships have started to shift. Our kids no longer need us to manage their social calendars—they make their own plans. Drop-offs and pick-ups are quick, with no time for the chats we once had when picking up our kids. And we can’t vent about motherhood the way we used to, because those stories aren’t really ours to tell anymore. Our kids’ privacy is at stake. Besides, there’s something far more personal and vulnerable about navigating their struggles with school and first heartbreaks than dealing with tantrums and diaper blowouts.

We’re being pulled in a million different directions—between work obligations, kids, aging parents, and, oh yeah, a marriage that needs attention. Does anyone else feel like they’re failing at everything? Like they’re not doing anything well? Is anyone else confused and too exhausted to even think about why?

Who knows, because we’re all too busy—or too scared—to talk about it.

In our late 30s and 40s, a lot changes too. Your career might be taking off, or you’re moving on to a second career or pursuing a new passion. It’s exciting and thrilling, but it can also leave you feeling shaky and uncertain. You’re thrilled about new opportunities, but there’s also this constant, low-key terror.

You spend less time making kids’ meals, getting them dressed, and overseeing bath time, but more time driving them everywhere. The physical demands of motherhood may have decreased, but the emotional demands can be overwhelming. You stay up late drying tears, wondering what’s bothering your kid because they won’t tell you—and respecting their privacy feels nearly impossible.

And then there’s the anger. Where did all this anger come from? You’re so furious sometimes that you think your head might literally explode—or that you might crumble into the fetal position and sob for hours.

Because while it’s true that you no longer tolerate bullshit (they were right about that), it also means you’re more aware of how much of it is out there. Bullshit, dumbfuckery, and douchiness seem to be everywhere. Your higher expectations and lower tolerance mean you’re more often disappointed in people—including yourself when you don’t live up to your ideals. You’re pissed a lot. Is it hormones? The shortcomings of the human condition? The current state of the world? (Yep, it’s probably that one).

And then there’s the constant awareness of our own mortality. In the past few years, one of my best friends was diagnosed with breast cancer, more friends than I can count have lost parents, and my own dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease and other serious health issues. And don’t even get me started on our own changing bodies and health problems. Every day brings a new physical ailment to contend with. And are those hot flashes? No, they couldn’t be. I’m only 41. But dammit, did someone turn up the heat?! Why does my knee creak all the time? And what’s with the headaches, indigestion, and random cramps?

Don’t get me wrong, your 40s really are amazing in a lot of ways. I no longer obsess over finding the perfect pair of jeans, and I’ve stopped trying to fix the lines on my forehead. I have a few solid friendships that I know will last. I know who I am, and while I’ve changed a lot, I’ve never felt more like myself. Maybe this is what they were talking about when they said all those glowing things about being in your 40s.

But let’s not pretend this time in our lives is some kind of liberating utopia. It’s hard AF too. Just because we don’t have kids literally hanging off of us doesn’t mean the emotional toll of motherhood (and womanhood) is any less.

Yet, for some reason, it feels like we can’t talk about it—like we need to wax poetic about how amazing it all is and how fast time flies. Well, you know what? Bullshit. I didn’t buy into that nonsense as a new mom, and I’m not buying it now.

Life is hard. Motherhood is confusing. Your 40s are confusing and lonely as hell sometimes. And let’s stop pretending otherwise. It doesn’t do any of us any good.

Instead, let’s talk about it. Let’s admit that we’re scared, confused, and lonely. Let’s admit that we feel angry some days, even if we’re not sure why. Let’s admit that we’re mourning and grieving—the loss of family members, friendships, and our youth.