The amazing thing about someone whose been out of the game for 30 years, is that she has no knowledge or willingness to participate in the calculated dance that is current urban dating. Instead, she’s made her own way. And she’s fucking killing it.
My life coach for hearing me and validating the idea that it’s okay to feel my feelings even if I am not proud of them
a part of me thinks you’re the only person who sees me, really sees me, because you know what I was like before I became broken
You are older, and I hope that means you will bring a certain maturity to the table that is new to me. I don’t want to be your mom. I don’t want to take care of you. I’m looking for a whole person who doesn’t need me, just like I don’t need them.
It means my 9-to-5 job doesn’t have to define me. There’s quantifiably more to my story.
I’m sorry for passing judgment when I should’ve approached a situation, or individual, with open-mindedness and compassion.
7:30 pm: Put on my pink tie dye monogrammed terry cloth robe, wrap my hair in a towel hat, and complete the look with those L.L. Bean furry moccasins that feel like clouds. This is the best night ever and I’m fucking killing it.
Thanksgiving in your twenties is like realizing you’re Holden Caulfield looking up at the rye cliff from below. You’ve made the plunge into adulthood, and it’s impossible to jump back up to how things were when you were little.
To those who took the next step in their relationships: I am in such deep admiration for what you have found with your partners. You are in healthy, supportive, loving situations and it is a damn beautiful thing. Seeing what you all have encourages me to hold out for the real thing.
A part of me is scared to shine at the level I know that I have within me.