Coming of Age

Photo by D.K. Brint
Photo by D.K. Brint

I’m not sure it has anything to do with approaching 60 in a couple of years but it probably does. I’ve become selective. Decisive. Choosy even. Grabbing the damn rudder and steering the frickin’ boat.

This coming from an individual who has always rolled with whatever; sometimes to my benefit and sometimes to my detriment, thankfully nothing that ever landed me in absolute dire circumstances. Thankfully life has been kind. I was the go with the flow person you’ve heard about, the let it be and carry on person. The shy wall flower, who rarely if ever said boo.

I am now more apt to walk away from something or from someone who annoys me, and I will not hesitate to openly voice my thoughts when someone’s view conflicts with mine. I don’t have time for acquiescence nor do I have to endure buffoons. I’ll tackle it all -politics, sex, religion or lawn care, what have you, you’ll hear my perspective. In fact there in lies an empowering statement: I DON’T HAVE TO.

Say it out loud-  Sooo liberating. This proclamation can be shortened to simply NO! Toddlers are on to something. I’ve come full circle.

I’m the boss of me. I know me better and acknowledge and respect my tolerances, shortcomings, the time I invest, and to what I prefer to turn my attention and to whom.

It’s clearly understanding my wants and needs, and if maturing can give me anything other than skin damage, a slowing metabolism, hair in unwanted places and the torment of hindsight it should give me that.

Who’s the captain now, eh?

 

 

 

 

 

 


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