Never gave it much thought, really. Forty was rough, hopefully this year will be better.
My body has changed; my pics prove it. So do my slightly tighter underpants. My life has changed; my stress levels prove that. And my heart has changed too.
It’s darker, farther away. I don’t feel badly about this. I feel safe, focused. I know what I need to do and finding love just isn’t it.
I’m good without it. Alone and independent. How can I say I don’t need anyone without sounding jaded or hurt??
The truth is, I don’t and I’m not. I’m just very, very clear.
I only need me. And my baby. Ok, and the goddamned animals, but that’s it! Wait. My sister, too. I definitely need her.
But all my friends? The ones who half ass the friendship? Nope, don’t need them. The men who come and go as they please? Nope, definitely don’t need them, either.
Forty was the year I realized how alone I am. Maybe 41 will be the year I start to really move on and gain steam. Make enough money, new friends, and stellar decisions. Maybe 41 will be my year, the year my body loves me as much as I love it and the year I let it all go.
Here’s to 41.