In less than ½ a year from now, I will be 50 years old.
I am proud of who I am.
My heart is tender and compassionate. I am smart. I am witty. I am hard working, kind, loving and I have a lot to give. Also, I am stubborn to a fault. I can take a lackadaisical and scattered approach to life. I sometimes am far more considerate of others than of myself; and at the same time can be selfish and run by motivating factors that I wish didn’t motivate me.
I am reflective, I am unique. I struggle with small talk unless it is obligatory. I have been told that “I am too much”; and it wasn’t in the ‘good’ too much kind of way.
Tears come as easy as laughter. Food, whiskey, wine and coffee; being consumed by work and men temporarily fill a hole in my heart that longs for something deeper.
I relish digging in the dirt, breathing in nature, talking with God, reading the Bible and also reading Anais Nin, bubble baths, writing, being with those I love, and being alone with my neverending thoughts. Those things feed my soul.
I love hard. It is difficult for me to let go of things that once were or things that might’ve been. I prefer seeing the possibilities over the reality at times.
I am human. Messy. A student of this life.
I am beauty in the chaos; with an emphasis on the chaos.
I am simply Sarah.
I know who I am. I know my value. So why, why, why do I so quickly forget that when it comes to men? Why do I push things under the rug that I know are harmful to my heart; contort myself to make another person comfortable and chase the love someone does not have to give me? And, why for the love of all things good, do I equate healthy men with boring. Not cool Sarah. Not cool.
These are the thoughts I ponder tonight.
I was going to write this entire synopsis on my dating journey and sexual awakening; it turns out that’s not really the gist of what is on my heart. Kind of.
What the gist of it all is isn’t about what the men have or haven’t done in my life; it’s about searching for a deeper understanding of why I have allowed myself; perhaps even put myself in less than stellar situations. Why have I decided to continually settle, be in relationships where someone mistakes me for a momma or their personal therapist, or place more value on whether I meet their standards than raising my own?
I desire a reciprocal, romantic, respectful relationship where passion is very much alive. Is it the fear of growing old alone that pushes me into the zone of what isn’t best for me? Is it the comfort of having someone that drives me there? I don’t know.
I do know that exploring the places I am accountable is a good thing. I do know that although I don’t ‘need’ a man; I totally desire a companion and that’s okay. I just need to figure out why I am still so willing to compromise on my ‘non negotiables’ and then I resent the hell out of them bc of my choices. That makes no sense.
Wish me luck. It looks like I have some hard work to do and some healthy boundaries to establish; starting with me.