I just turned thirty and a half.
Now that the reality of my 30’s has hit, life doesn’t feel like a Sex and the City episode anymore,
It’s one thing after another and then another.
I’m not feeling the flirty, thirty, and thriving high. This isn’t the vibe anymore.
This year beat my ass.
I gained full consciousness this year and I miss when I was ignorantly in bliss.
I have lived 6 different lives in the last half year. Every new week, from May until October, I went through every possible plot that could be imagined.
Hey, but at least I’m still hot, at least I have that going for me. I wouldn’t declare being in the best shape of my life, my stomach remains flat though.
People go, more than they come.
Achievements and accomplishments never reach the end goal because the race doesn’t stop.
Insecure, older, women can be like wolves in sheep’s clothing. The behavior of an evil woman is expected when it comes from a man, when it comes from a woman it shocks you.
My truthful advice, as a mature woman in her thirties. Hold on to your girlfriends. Your friends will see who has your best and worst interest before you do.
The older I get, the more grateful I am for the women I call my best friends.
At 30 1/2, I have never felt more inclined and passionate about speaking out.
Being a woman is political.
I have done an excellent job protecting my energy the past several months, too well of a job. My passionless phase is here to stay and has me sleeping on the couch since it took over my bed.
The question is no longer who are we? But what are we going to do with who we are?
The days are short and dark. My freckles are gone, the dark bags under my eyes are back. My hair is down to my waist and I still go back and forth with myself about keeping it long or cutting it short.
This has stayed the same for 15 years.
I still love the ocean and sunsets.
I’m pretty hopeful for a girl so consistently disappointed.
I’m extremely avoidant for someone who believes in the hope of love.
Everyone has a different life, something new going on. Another baby, another break up, another trend. Everything changes and somehow remains still.
I still can’t parallel park.
We’re writing our own stories and building our legacy.
We are breaking generational curses because it ends here.
As we get close to end the year of doom and despair, I’d like to say that I am tired of seeing all the engagements and baby announcements.
Somebody announce a break up. A lawsuit. A minor felony.
Anything.
Somehow, I am still fucking standing.
Because truly, what other choice do I have in this wretched existence? What a glorious way to remind myself to keep going, even if only out of spite.
Leave a Reply