So, I’m feelin’ pretty good lately. Like I’m owning shit. Well, not shit, more like, ME.
Like I’m all up IN my skin, not just wearing it. It feels warm and fuzzy too…. and I haven’t even started drinking yet.
When I look at my body in the mirror, it looks right.
It doesn’t look great, it doesn’t look young, but it looks right.
I’m not fucking ‘young’ anymore anyway which is okay, you see, I traded in my tight young ass for experience.
“Life Experience“, that is.
Not totally ready to go full tilt and all wrinkly-assed for the sake wisdom yet, but I’m not totally turned-off by the thought of that like I used to be, either.
I guess I’m growing up.
It took me a minute, but I’m getting there.
One might say I’m “passing the baton”. Well, I guess if the “baton” is a dick then that’d be right.
What I’m sayin’ is, that when I was younger, you know, without kids hanging off my tits, I was so hung up on looking a certain way, fitting into what others classified as “attractive” or “hot”…and by “others”, I mean mostly, men.
In fact, I think I was more concerned with that then just pleasing myself. I’ve learned since then, that pleasing a man over yourself gets you a few things: hung up, stood up, fed up, and fucked up.
My kids kinda taught me that lesson in a very “Tough Love” kind of way.
They forced me, by their sheer existence, to prioritize.
Like in the fucking Army when they “personality strip” your ass in order to rebuild you their way. Kids are like these little fucked up corporals that strip you of your frivolous ways.
“Oh, hello mommy, I just dropped by to tell you…”
BAM!! There goes your body!
BAM!! There goes your social life!
BAM!!!! ‘YO ASS IS MINE, BITCH!
At first you’re all shell shocked…pissed off….depressed.
“Where the hell did my life go???”
Ahhh, you see, that’s all part of the plan.
After a while, you learn being pissed about it, just uses up valuable energy you could be using to survive….
and then my friends…..IT’S ON.
“I don’t care if I fit in these jeans or not, I NEED TO EAT!”
“I don’t care if my hair smells bad, I NEED TO SLEEP!”
“I don’t care what the hell I look like while I’m “doin’ the do”, if I’m gonna take time away from sleeping to fuck,
THAT SHIT BETTER FEEL GOOD!”
And so, starts the cycle of OWNING YOUR SHIT.
It’s an individual process you see, this whole epiphany of “Owning Your Shit”, and may not have started to take effect in your life yet….but it will. And you’ll know it when it does. It has this nifty, confidence thing where you suddenly feel more attractive, without even trying.
So, here’s to getting older, getting experienced, letting your kids teach you the real deal, feeling good in your not-so-tight-skin, fucking for the feel of it, and OWNING. YOUR. SHIT.
Now, THAT’S something worth drinking to.