Should I be saying "45 and LOVING It" as opposed to "45 and Looking Back"? Not sure that I "love" it so much when I "look back." Interesting ... it wasn't until my recent birthday that I felt my age (in spite of still looking younger than many of my friends). For the first time, I feel like I'm moving a little slower and less energetic. My skin is getting drier (I remember my mom telling me that I should use lotion and sunscreen). My eyes have significantly deteriorated in vision over the past year -- it seems like a 200% decrease in visibility, especially when attempting to read. It was only months ago (and lasting for 29 years) that my vision was good enough for me to legally drive without corrective lenses. My skin seems thinner, drier, and looser. My hair grows quickly, but seems to get drier, grayer, and frizzier. I'm getting age spots and wrinkles. I'm growing hair where I shouldn't and losing it where it should be. My m
Dating ... dang. I am reminded of a saying that my father used to say "don't force what don't fit." Online dating seems so forced ... and I can say -- after months of posting profiles first on Match, then Tinder, cancelling Match and trying Bumble, and then checking out OkCupid -- this whole process is so ridiculous. Whatever happened to meeting in real life? The funny thing is that I have actually seen a few of these guys in person after viewing their profiles online, and while I know they saw mine (those online systems notify you!), from across the room, we might make eye contact, perhaps give a small wave, and even mouth a shy "hello" without outing either one of us ... it seems like, down deep, we are still shy middle-schoolers, and now it's just easier to post anonymously online than to approach each other and avoid the possible real-life pain of rejection? Heck, most women (and men) won't shoot anyone down for a genuine cordial attempt at
After over two decades, I returned to my home state, which unsettled the memories in my mind and made them resurface, often prompted by sifting through boxes of collected items over the years. I realized I've come a long way. I look at photos of myself from days long gone, and wonder who is that girl? Did her dreams come true? Did she know where she was headed? Did she know she was loved, and that she loved many? I then look at people who were with me on my journey -- where are they now, in those cases when they are no longer in my life? In the sunlight, I see my shadows, and sometimes there are others with me. I may not see their shadows, but they are there. My journey is in motion; my life is not static; but, I wander, I wonder, I want.