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Stagnant for so long, not unhappy but stuck (in a rut) maybe. I thought it was good—a steady job, staying in one place long enough to grow roots, but after 10 years of the same, I realise it is not enough.
A gypsy at heart. My feet feel itchy and I need to wander. I need adventure and I feel like I have wasted so much time, so much precious time!
I guess I don’t regret it. I needed to do it to realise I am not the settling down type. At 46-years-old, I should want the house, the car, the holidays, the children, the pets, the family, but I don’t!
I don’t want to grow up ever and who says I should? Everybody LOL.
They all worry about me, want me to find a man and save my money (for my retirement) so that I am secure. Fuck that!
One thing I have learnt is that men and/or money do not make me happy.
I love simple things, small pleasures, being by myself. I get lonely sometimes but solitude and quiet is so important to me.
I need peace in my heart. Men only cause pain and for my heart to either ache or break. People don’t realise how fragile I am and when I love, I love with all my heart. I give everything and when it all goes wrong it takes a long, long time to heal. A long, long time to trust again.
Independence is a good and bad thing. It makes me stronger to know I can do anything and just about everything myself. I don’t need help or assistance, but men don’t like it—I think my independence scares them. I don’t need them. Don’t get me wrong, I like them, I like them A LOT. I’ve lost count of the number of men I’ve loved, desired, fucked, kissed—boyfriends, one-night stands, holiday romances, strangers. I know it’s a very long list and some of them I can’t even remember. Maybe a vague recollection or a fleeting memory will be triggered occasionally but they mean nothing. Sex is just sex and I love it. The more variety, the better. I really can’t imagine loving just one person forever—in fact, for me, it just feels totally and utterly impossible. And boring!
So, what will everyone think when 46-year-old me uproots myself my life again and turns my back on the good job, stable home, and their expectations of what I should do with my life?
Disappointment maybe—fear, envy maybe? I don’t know, and I don’t really care. I need to live my life my way. I understand the "saving for the future" thing but I don’t know my future. What the fuck am I saving for—retirement? Death? If I work until I’m 65, I will be too fucking old to do anything but exist. I have to do it now. I want to live now, I want to incorporate adventure in my life now while I can still enjoy it. Fuck my career, fuck settling down, fuck saving for the future!
I am proud of where I am and what I have achieved but it doesn’t satisfy my soul—never has, never will. Work is just a means to an end. I work to survive. There are many other ways to survive. To be perfectly honest, what I have done for the last 10 years (or more) hasn’t been living. There hasn’t been much joy or happiness or peace. Just the same old same old and I am so bored, unsatisfied, and over it.
This year, 2018, everything is changing. I am removing the shackles and setting myself and my soul free.
I lost my way—I need to start living again!
I have options but no guarantees. That’s what makes it an adventure – the unknown. I know it is irresponsible and my family and friends won’t approve but I don’t want what they want. Only I know what is best for me. I want to feel everything. I want to experience it first hand, not on TV or in books—pain, joy, fear, happiness, peace, gratitude, elation, grief, horror, bravery, terror, respect, awe, wonder, amazement, surprise, excitement, connection, belonging, and love. A lot of love.
So here’s to 2018. I will live my life to the fullest so when I die, I can smile at God and say I made the most of my time in that life.