When Your HBD is a BFD


“I don’t look no different. I don’t feel no different. I still feel three.”

– Four year-old Mel

In the very recent past (perhaps not even two hours ago, according to Eastern Standard Time), I said goodbye to my 30s. The left peacefully. One moment, I was a 30-something; the next, I have to find the right date to have my titty smashed between a glass plate. So what did I learn in the past decade?

I learned that life is life. I learned that love is like a diamond, in that it is hard and beautiful. I learned that I can be slowed, but it’s going to be a long time before I can be stopped. I learned that I made fantastic children. I learned that I have a lot to learn about myself.

The rumor is that life begins at 40, but I’ve had one hell of a head start. I took a long look at the things I didn’t accomplish in my 30s, and paid attention to the common denominator: me. I pull myself back from the precipice of greatness all the time, whether it’s through self-doubt or procrastination. I’m leaving that habit with 39. My life needs more “I dids” than “I’ll dos.” The beautiful thing is (I received a kind reminder last night), I’ve already started down my path and I need only stick to it.

I’ve thought much about ordered steps and how that never fails you. I can see where my steps are leading and I’m already in love with that place. This next year holds the promise of being exciting, not only for me, but for some of you who have been with me as a writer for well over a decade. So, follow me. I’ll take you places.

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