What do you think middle age is? I never thought I’d be middle aged at 43… but I still don’t feel like an adult.
He called me middle aged today.
The floor fell out of my soul.
This man. This beautiful creature that makes me feel like I’m 12, at most… referred to me as middle aged. I’m older than him and for the first time in my life, I’m sensitive to it.
I’ve always dated significantly older men…… but now they look like my father… so …..
30 it is.
Hearing the man that I most want to be attractive to, refer to me as an old lady… yeah. It was another great day in a most fulfilling year. <eyeroll>
I came home on the verge of peeing my pants and ran through dog pee on my way to the bathroom. I have so many fires to put out at home that I’m hit immediately with the foreboding feeling that precedes an anxiety attack. I went straight to my room, sat on the edge of my bed and was hit FULL on by it.
Hot tears rolling down flushed cheeks. Gagging on the emotions I’m drowning in. So heartbroken I can’t catch my breath. So unhappy and feeling so unattractive, unwanted and sad.
Falling in love the deepest with the least available man is the most self destructive thing I’ve ever done and now that I’m middle aged, that’s saying something.
I wish I knew what it was that made me think uncertainty and fear meant love.
I wish I wanted someone that was kind to me, because loving someone that hurts me indiscriminately makes me feel so bad about myself.
It makes me feel like a bad mother, a shitty friend and far less deserving of the love I give so freely.
I should be old enough to know better, smart enough to not chase anyone that doesn’t want me and wise enough to recognize both.
But I’m not, so here we are.
I’ve had a dozen emails from incredible women in the same awful boat. We are all just bleeding from the heart and trying not to drip on anyone or anything we love.
At the end of the day, it’s just another Thursday. He’s just another beautiful heartache.
This is just another sad page in an incredible book.