There are no awards for life. Notes from turning 44.

The first drive home from the hospital, I was terrified. Tea light candles in the room, my wife and I both a wreck, and me behind the wheel going, oh my god, I can’t believe I’m driving. I can’t believe there’s a kid in here.

The second drive home, a few weeks ago: autopilot. Hopefully we make it.

That’s most things. Starting a business, going on a date, posting something online. Very nervous the first time, a lot easier the second. Nobody claps for the second one either. And I’ve noticed I have spent a lot of my life waiting for someone to clap.

I’m 44. Halfway, if I’m being optimistic. Double girl dad. What stands out this year is how much of my sense of being worth something used to come from outside. Views make you worth it. Revenue makes you worth it. Right now AppSumo revenue is down 50%, I posted about it, and it is easy to stare at that number and doubt whether I’m any good at this.

A long time ago Tynan told me to just tell yourself you’re awesome, all the time. I know that sounds strange. It stuck anyway. When I’m doing something with my daughter, I’m proud of that. When I’m prioritizing my wife. When I’m at work encouraging people, which is the word I picked for this year, leadership. Stocks down, revenue down, someone unhappy with something: a lot of that sits outside my control. The stuff inside my control is where I get to say, man, I am awesome.

There are no awards for life

This is the funny one. Sometimes I do something for my daughter and I look around for an award. I sleep next to her at night, I give up something I want for something she wants, and some part of me waits for the trophy.

There isn’t one. We’re floating around, we’ll get to the end, and the only awards are the ones you give yourself. Most people aren’t trained for that. I wasn’t. So I’m practicing. I’m proud of what I’m doing here, and I say it to myself, because nobody else is going to.

Two more from this year that live under the same idea.

Be picky. Previous relationships were stressful, discouraging, critical. I remember a birthday where a person was yelling at me and I was like, damn. My wife is a 180 from that. She truly wants me to be happy, and I’d say I’m more selfish than her. If you’re single, wait, and be picky. I probably wasn’t, and I got lucky and married a 10 out of 10. It’s the biggest decision you make. Shout out to Mafe.

Text your parents. A founder I know who sold his company for a billion dollars told me he calls his parents every day and texts them every night, because you never know if they’re going to wake up the next day. He said it in passing. It stuck. I text my mom more now, updates on the babies, what’s going on with me. She asks a lot of questions, but that’s a separate thing. No award for that one either. It’s just good.

44 kilometers

Birthdays used to be, let’s party. This year it was dinner with my wife and my parents, Mexican food, and a bike ride where I do the number of kilometers as my age. A few calls from friends. Rob Barber calls me every birthday. I met him once at a domain conference about 10 years ago.

The things I want get fewer every year. When we pass away, all of it either disappears or just goes on, and nothing is really ever owned. The significance we give to stuff is probably not as important as it feels in the moment.

Everyone is boner hard about OpenClaw and agents right now, and I’ve been playing with it too (it lied to me about how useful it is, but that’s a different post). While everyone rushes one direction, I keep asking what they’re ignoring. A buddy of mine bought crypto the moment everyone stopped caring. Warren Buffett just bought the New York Times. That’s a business thought and a life thought. To have it, you have to mute the feed, go for a two or three hour bike ride with no music, and think.

I thought 42 was going to be great and it was. I thought 43 was going to be poor and it was pretty great too. 44 is shaping up strong, and for the first time, I’m not waiting for anyone to tell me so.

My parents are here. We’re going to play with the babies, go to swim class, and eat some Texas barbecue. Tonight I’ll sleep next to my daughter, nobody will clap, and I’m giving myself the award anyway.

From episode 385 of my podcast, Noah Kagan Presents. Listen on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.