My annual birthday post comes late. It was my party and I will cry if I want to. I did. Truth be told it was a hard day – life doesn’t stop, even for special days and it’s not every day your birthday ends in a rare lunar eclipse. I am such a fucking Scorpio.
46 left me with so much…
Happy reunions with loved ones I hadn’t seen in far too long, an undiscovered vertebra that told me to take none of that shit, being kissed mercilessly, revelations that plummeted disappointment to lower depths, friendship that continues to be loyal as fuck, solidified and deepened connections, songs that cut me deeply, art that moved me, endless amounts of laughter with my kid and watching them be a god dammed warrior, tribe, tested comfort zones, being met, seen and accepted for nothing less than I am without agenda.
I got on a plane again, met several e-friends for the first time, passed a kidney stone (not recommended), too many covid tests, got vaccinated, had another successful solo art show, fell in love with taking care of my plants and arranging flowers, saw Nothing, went to Death Valley, reclaimed my motherfucking name, saw the world with a more amplified sense of wonder, wrote and wrote and wrote some more… and shared it all because I have nothing to hide. And a really big one? The out loud admittance that my previous life was abusive and unkind in many places – only to be packaged and sold as “love”. It wasn’t. I am not ashamed of Her, she didn’t know better and really wasn’t sure who she was just yet. I thought I did. I like who I am becoming so much more.
46 showed me that my truth continues to be the sharpest knife in my arsenal, that fear and insecurity are poison and I don’t give a fuck what people think of me. The greatest love of my life will always be Me, I enjoy my own company and that being wanted is far more meaningful than feeling needed. Because if there’s something that 46 gave me in abundance is choosing to not settle for mediocrity and bare minimum efforts from anyone. To tell those ghosts that come knocking again, “thanks but no thanks”. She showed me how to say “go fuck yourself” with silence or a gaze, how to stand my ground, how my peace has no price tag, that I enjoy being and feeling utterly free to live a life on my own terms, how to truly be accountable when I needed to be and when to hold others to the same standards because I deserve the world.
The most valuable lesson? Self worth. Every inch of my Olympus is not an altar for mortals to pray at, much less reside in. I am not a liner note kind of woman, I am the whole leather bound anthology and only the worthy will get to be a part of this story. And if they’re lucky? Turn. My. Pages.
Hello 47. Let’s see what you got.