Kathy Patalsky - Notes
Notes is the audio home for the writing and voice of Kathy Patalsky — an author, writer, and photographer living in Los Angeles.
It’s a collection of unfiltered short essays that say out loud the thoughts many people carry quietly, capturing modern life as it unfolds in real time.
A mother and creative entrepreneur, Kathy writes with emotional clarity and a sharp cultural lens, moving between personal reflection and cultural observation with ease.
An elder millennial with deep ties to pop culture, technology, and online storytelling, she has been creating on the internet since 2007 — moving through an iconic blog, cookbooks, screenwriting, paid brand collaborations, contributor roles, and digital media. A two-time cookbook author with a global audience, her career has unfolded publicly, alongside the culture itself.
Kathy Patalsky - Notes
45.
This episode reflects on how birthdays change with age — moving from performance to presence, from spectacle to meaning. Set inside an ordinary morning, it explores growing up, releasing imagined versions of adulthood, and finding significance in a life that looks simpler than expected.
A short audio essay about maturity, perspective, and learning to live inside the moment.
hosted by Kathy Patalsky
IG: KathyPatalsky + notes.kathy
45.
Welcome to notes. I'm Kathy Patalsky, an author, writer, and photographer living in Los Angeles. This is my collection of unfiltered short essays.
Today's episode is called 45.
Today is my birthday. Yay. Except I woke up with a cold, so everything feels slightly off, which honestly feels about right for birthdays these days.
The one thing I wanted to wake up to today, I wanted the house to be clean. That didn't even happen. Messy kitchen, dishes in the sink, the whole thing. So, I prepared my daughter's lunch, packed her backpack, laid out her clothes, loaded her into the car.
But because it was my birthday, I paused and I thought, huh, that's weird. This doesn't feel bad. This average, mediocre birthday that's panning out. at this stage in my life, I don't think a birthday is meant to be extraordinary.
It's more like a snapshot of what your life actually looks like and this life, every piece of it is mine. I love waking up messy, Taking care of my daughter, making breakfast, squeezing into my office after she leaves and working on something creative. I love stepping into my garden and feeling the sun on my face.
I think that's what birthdays are supposed to look like when you grow up.
A quiet birthday is enough. More than enough. Part of me hears that and thinks, wow, that sounds sad. Elder millennial. But it's not sad. It's the point. Growing up is quieter.
Birthdays as a kid were different. I remember my epic parties. Friends covering every inch of the living room floor with sleeping bags like a quilt, pizza, scary movies, Ouija board, truth or dare, waking up groggy and quiet the next morning, wandering into the kitchen for cold cereal and juice.
It was the feeling of people showing up and staying. When you're young, you don't know yet. If people will show up, so when they do, it feels monumental. I will absolutely perform that ritual with my daughter. Balloons, snacks, big parties.
She's in that stage where the ceremony teaches you something real. That people show up. That you matter. That's a rite of passage.
But for me, at 45, I don't need it anymore. And maybe that's not sad. Maybe that's the point.
There's also this adult realization that sneaks in on your birthday when you have to look around and think.
This life I love isn't what I pictured. When I was younger, I had a very clear vision of adulthood. Fancy job, big building, bright lipstick, elevators, meetings, a corner office overlooking the city. Every Barbie had high heels on. So clearly.
I have no plans for lipstick. The fact that I changed my outfit from pajamas to loungewear was a big deal.
I think I knew I wasn't meant to do that. I was meant for quiet, creative work. I was meant to care for things. My heart was made for days like this, birthdays like this. Each year the earth goes around the sun.
I understand that a little more. Maybe the real gift this birthday isn't that everything feels good because it doesn't.
The gift is that I didn't spiral. I just lived the day. I didn't even yell at my husband about the dishes in the sink.
You guys, that's growth.
And maybe that's what growing up actually looks like.
This was Notes by Kathy Patalsky
For more, follow Kathy on Instagram or visit healthyhappylife.com