I’m not even sure how one starts to write a blog. You can’t start at the beginning, of everything. But maybe pick a beginning and see where it goes.

I’m that blend of a kid who was an adult at 7, but even though I changed after 16, I think that’s probably how I would describe my inside self. Women know that this person struggles with anxiety, the fear that you are not valued for your contribution. A consistent need to do more but really can’t operate without 3 hours of completely downtime without distractions. Our brain runs like a 3 ring circus and it’s always a crap shoot as to whether you’ll respond to something with your 56 year old grown up self, or that 16 year old who still hates being looked down on by *anyone*.

But the best thing about getting old is that you just don’t care anymore. You honestly couldn’t care less what most people think of you. Or that’s what you say, but come on, isn’t it the worst feeling ever?? When you think someone doesn’t like you, doesn’t respect you, is actively working against you?

I think if the goal of life is to get to the place that you have no reaction to anyone but people who mattered to you, then you would have succeeded at living. Because up to that point, you’re letting those people take up a lot of your day.

I am not even close, but I do get closer every day.