I have not written in months, almost a year now. There really hasn't been a reason for the absence, I guess I didn't think I had anything to say. But, when I look at my husband's face after I have not shut up for twenty straight minutes, I realized that I still have something to say. I Started this blog so that if dementia ever caught me, there would still be a record for me to revisit, for my kinder or grandkinder to visit, to know me better. This blog has been a safe place for me to say something.
I am fifty one now and I would like to address the new saying that 50 is the new 30. It isn't. 50 is 50 and it is what ever it is for you. It certainly isn't going to be bikini photos on the beach showing off my rock hard abs because I don't have rock hard abs. I have soft, pillow like abs. All the better for Hattie to snuggle against! It isn't going to be updating my Linkedin with new career opportunities, well, because I don't have a Linkedin. It also isn't going to be me going through my closet getting rid of whatever clothes have been deemed too young, too trendy, too whatever, because I am going o wear whatever I want. I never understood why women felt like they needed to cover up their legs as they got older. I guess I am not flexible enough to see the spider veins running rampant on the backs of my knees. I also know that I am not giving a damn. Who has time or energy to care about the veins on someone's legs. Or the size of their muffin top or the number of greys on their head? If all of that comes with being older, I will take it over being dead. That's not to say I won't try to avoid the muffin top or won't continue to color or style my hair. It means that I am not interested in the views that someone else may hold that are meant to diminish me in some way.
Also, I was a pretty frequent participant in the diminish someone else game and I would like to apologize for my petty behavior. I will tell you that I made fun of, belittled and put down people because I was jealous of them, I had low self esteem and I was an asshole. Mostly an asshole. I still have low self esteem but am much less of an asshole so I can honestly say I was mostly as asshole. There's no going back and fixing all of those hurtful, shitty words and deeds. I actually spent some serious thought on that yesterday on my first walk of the year! If I were still a church goer, I could go to confession. I do miss confession. Woolworth is long out of business so there's no paying them back for the striped mini skirt I stole. The guy who lived in the first house on Park, he's long dead, I can't apologize to him for fucking with his decorative fence nearly every day. These offences (and plenty more) just hang in my soul, using up energy. How do I purge myself of the shittiness that I was?
Speaking of shittiness, a few years ago, I had a huge falling out with someone that had always been in my life. That's a weird thing to have happen. It sucked at the time and took me a long time to reckon with it. Ashlyn said to me that there are consequences for my actions. Consequences aren't always negative. Those consequences included other people leaving my life as well but also me really acknowledging who I was and who I was pretending to be. I think I am much more me now, and this is obviously where I am supposed to be in my fifty first year so it's all good. The last thing I said to this person was kind. For that I am glad. One less amend I have to make, right!
There is no reason to keep up a part of your life that is painful or hurtful or does not being you joy or fulfillment or whatever. You can change your mind, your heart, your address, your career, your last name, your first name, your identity and you don't have to explain it. Ashlyn reminded me of this as well. When she said that, it hit me that I expect an explanation when people don't follow through. And well, that's stupid. I am not owed nor do I owe an explanation for almost anything. I think about the times at my job that I was going to become an assistant manager or switch to the pharmacy and then something else happened or didn't happen and I didn't become an assistant manager and I didn't transition to the pharmacy. And now, I work four hours a week at a place that once was my career. And it's cool and no one needs to know more than that. Almost all the decisions I make really don't affect anyone else except my husband and maybe my kinder.
So, that all felt good. It felt good to have a place to speak. It feels good to put these thoughts down, like this blog is my diary. Doogie Howser did it. We all tuned in for that. I don't expect anyone to tune in for this, but thanks if you do. I know I am not alone in trying to figure out how to be 51, to be kind in an often hostile place, to be better than I was, to be at peace with my choices. I know I am not alone in feeling like everyone else has it together, and is judging me because I don't. But also, I know that is not the case. Most of us are decent, we want people to be successful in life, to find joy, to be happy. Maybe that is where this blog is headed, to focus on success, joy and happiness.
Anyway, thanks for reading along, I appreciate you.
