I am about to delete about five draft blogs. They are abandoned and forlorn. They are off to blog heaven. They are no longer relative or just cringeworthy. One title is Stronger, Fitter, Faster! Haha. I don’t know what I was thinking but as a girl on the cusp of turning 50 I am none of these. I am Fatter, Fartier and Inebriated. Now that is a title I might add to my potential blogs. It’s true though.
Another one talks about chafe. The struggle is real. I have ginormous boozies and suffer from chafing under my boobs. Thank god for Glide. I will never ever again in my life wear stockings. YES! I will never ever again wear stilettos. I will never ever again wear a petticoat. Fuck that shit! I wear makeup when I feel like it. Wearing it not for an occasion but just because I feel like it or have the energy to be bothered. I have an opinion on most things, but feel no need to share it unless it infringes on my idea of opposing social justice. It’s taken me a long time but I have very good boundaries in place concerning what I allow into my life. I only read books I know will be beautiful or challenge my own thinking. I listen to beautiful music I love but love being curious about new music too. If it’s crap music, crap books or crap tv; then it doesn’t get a gong. BUT, I love that everyone’s idea of entertainment and what interests them does not match mine and that then creates great conversation. I immerse myself fully into the present. If I am grocery shopping and Dancing Queen is played you can bet I will be singing and dancing. Probably why my kids never come anywhere with me at the moment. They’re teenagers, they will outgrow that.
I guess over the past twelve months I have reached the comfortable stage where I no longer worry about what people think of me. They don’t know me and they will be wrong about me anyway. Unless of course they think I am a delight. As Dr Seuss says “Those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind don’t matter”.
Arriving to this here and now me was a very painful process. It involved lots of ugly crying, breakdowns and the involvement of several mean girls. They were mothers of kids in one of my kids classes. They openly gossiped about me saying ugly untrue things about me. After grieving and feeling awful it occurred to be they have dark black hearts and what they say and how they act only reveals who they are rather than who I am. I actually love running into them now as they are the one’s who can’t meet my steady gaze.
I know it’s human nature to talk about other people. We all do it. Just try to only talk about what you know is true. What you are prepared to say in front of the person you are talking about and what you would be happy to hear being said about yourself. Everything else is vitriolic and most likely untrue. I am not perfect and I am glad my daughter will remind me when I am saying something to her that she thinks should not be discussed. Good on her for calling me out. But these are the things I try really hard to do. Kindness is something that is free and actually very easy to be. Not to do, to be.