Somedays I feel like such a child still. Like I am looking through my “tweenager” eyes, not as a 40-something-year-old woman.
I worry I’ll get into trouble.
I worry about what people think of me.
I worry about speaking up and voicing my opinions.
I’ve had so many “parent-teacher” relationships and still do to this day where it’s not merely me looking up to someone but me actually feeling inferior to many.
But every now and again, I get a glimpse of me. Of the fact, I am a grown arse woman and no longer a tween. I catch a glimpse of my face in the reflection of a window or screen or photos and realise that is who people are seeing.
I am an adult, regardless of my past.
I am way, way passed that part of my life, so why do I still feel like a failure. An imposter. Fake. Ugly. Young and dumb. Why do I still beat myself up for the things I say. Why do I continually replay past mistakes when I know I have learnt from them, and I can not do anything to change them.
I am not a teen mum anymore.
I am not a rebellious teenager whose parents are frustrated and maybe a little embarrassed of.
I am not a young girl who desperately wants to be loved.
I am not a naive child who puts herself in traumatising positions to be targeted by sickos.
I am not a young woman who married the wrong man, who then divorced him and failed at something again.
I am not the hard-working, struggling single mother of three.
I am a grown, arsed mother fucking woman.
A mother of five.
A wife.
A career woman.
Slightly unbalanced, wholly unhinged and totally fucking proud of where I am at in my life.
So what if I married twice. So what if I had my first baby young. So what if I was a single mum. So what if I have a past which isn’t all that wonderful.
I do not have to answer to anyone – ever. Period.
I know I am a kind human being.
I know I would never intentionally hurt anyone.
I know I am not an imposter in my career – I’ve studied and worked bloody hard to be where I am.
I know I do not owe anyone anything because of a past I cannot change, because of what I weigh, because of what I brought or did not bring to a relationship and I certainly don’t fucking owe anyone an explanation or justification about who I have turned out to be… Especially myself.
It is time to get my shit together and understand this – spiritually, emotionally and physically before this 40-something turns into 80-something where I talk incessantly about all the things I could/should have done in my 40’s!
Living with no fucks given starts today!
LD ||
Reality Writes by London Dene 