Tuesday

I turn forty in a few weeks. I am okay with it, truly. Glad of it, in fact. Turning forty means I somehow survived my thirties. I am working on something, a retrospective of the past decade. I am thinking of giving each year its own space, bound in its own specific sentences. It will not be an easy task. It has been a long decade, a hard one wrought with loss and woven with joy. I learned a lot. More than I thought I needed to know. I gave birth to two babies in this decade. Moved more times…

Monday

A friend asked me about the story I mentioned in the last post, how I would write it now, if I was to do so and this has been on my mind all day. I would not write it again, is my first response. I needed to write it then as a sort of dare for myself, a push-back against the things that scared me. There are elements that I am still mildly curious about but I am no longer frantically confused. I think because the truth of it all is this: it does not matter, or at least it…