Face it, girls. I’m older and I have more insurance.

Fifty.
I officially have the Burkhammer nose.
All I need now is a wart on the tip.
I’m fifty now. In my whole life I’ve not changed as much as I have since the summer of 2016. Not good changes, either.

Right now my life is simply discombobulated. (“Simply.” There’s nothing “simply” about it.)

Everyday I…

  • awaken with a sense of disappointment.
  • get out of bed and you’re lucky if I bathe or even get dressed.
  • make sure my child is fed and has needs met.
  • make sure she knows how beautiful she is. (She’s not convinced, but let’s chalk that up to being an insecure teen.)
  • feel a huge dose of guilt for her not having a life as nice as her friends.
  • wash my face and drag on through the day.

A few of years ago I felt encouraged–completely pumped–to become something new. I truly felt some sort of internal revival, like the universe was guiding me and I felt so free.

I quit my job of twelve years (twelve!!) and happily hurled myself into the void. I went back to school for a paralegal certificate and felt like I had a sense of place. I felt so much peace–and happiness! Happiness has always been a struggle, but for a precious few months I felt happier than I ever have in my adult life.

It also helped that: I was in love. I had a new car. My daughter was struggling being a new teen, but we were working on that and I was seeing her in a new light. I had a new direction with a good ending.

AND…
just when I
became Towanda,
everything blew up.

Oh, and we lost our art studio.

What happened? I won’t go into details right now, but all-in-all it wasn’t just life that happened.

My family, partners, and I are all trying to live through everything, still trying to get over everything. I’m hoping we are on the tail end of that [censored] [censored] time in our lives. After all, we do have some things to celebrate, too. They’re overshadowed by the messes, but at least they haven’t been overlooked.

It may be just me clinging on to the familiar past, but now…I don’t know. I want something. I don’t know what. (A little respect?) I guess I’m just scared. Of the things I do want, big and small, I’m afraid that my attempts will just fizzle out. It might help if I dropped the crappy attitude.

It may be I’m older now and generally don’t give two [censnnnsorrrrrreddd].

Looking back, I do have at least one person to blame, but in the end it’s All. On. Me.

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