Allow Me To Introduce Myself.. Again

I had an entire thought process written out in the notes on my phone… and now it’s gone. Lost somewhere in the ether kinda like my thoughts lately. I started to cry (another new norm) but then decided to sit down and try to answer a question I’ve had for awhile:

“IS there a MESSAGE in my mess?”

A year ago I had it all: millions of people consuming my digital lifestyle content, brand deals, free boxes of everything a girl could want sent to my door weekly, I was making an actual CAREER out of what I loved to do.

In the same year we celebrated our daughter getting married, our son graduating and moving off to college, building our dream home as empty nesters, so many JOYFUL life moments.

Aaaaaand I felt like a fraud- I was struggling with being emotionally happy AND physically depressed. Talk about a mind fuck.

Within our year of abundance I was under constant assault from my own body. Say it with me ladies: “Menopause is a BITCH”.

Yesterday I realized I haven’t taken a “postable” picture in that year. Sure I’ve taken pictures but I just didn’t recognize the face looking back at me so “delete” it was.

I had this “vision” of aging gracefully, like Jennifer Aniston. I’d go back to natural: Embrace my gray hair and remove my volume extensions, take off my lash extensions, ditch my long fake nails, stop OBSESSING on being a size 4, focus on great skin and gut health, ditch the morning coffee for matcha… I was going to be the IT girl for mature ladies.

Sigh

I didn’t take into account how much those things were a real piece of my confidence. Kind of like mini walls of protection. And in my exuberance for natural they were all gone in a blink.

For the first time I saw my age staring back at me. Wrinkles, turkey neck, thinning hair, sagging skin (and boobs!), fluffier body. Every morning I found myself running through the insults in the mirror.

I expected the hot flashes, night sweats, irritability, fatigue, weight gain. Every damn sitcom out there had the “middle age mom” going though it that they looooved making jokes about. But no one prepared me for the MESS of it all. The loss of self, loss of health, loss of interest, loss of purpose….

So let’s talk about it ALL. Let’s scream, cry, laugh, rage.. WHATEVER.. about it ALL.