Warning. I'm dishing dirt on my myself and this post is much more personal & revealing than I've been in the past.
Back in September, I turned 48. #virgomagic And while I love birthdays, no matter the number attached, this one was quite depressing. Why?
Because my life has slowly, consistently been veering more and more offtrack for years. My business, my finances, my health — mental health included, my relationships, and even my most sacred devotion — my creativity are all dysfunctional to varying degrees. Denying this any longer would only cause more self-inflicted damage. So I surrendered to the beautiful mess.
Traditionally, this realization is labeled a "midlife crisis", even though no trophy wives or sports cars were present. And I have embraced this somewhat archaic term, because that's exactly what it is — an existential crisis about who I've been and who I want to be for the rest of my life.
Midlife reckoning is part of the life cycle.
To avoid it is to deny your own wisdom. You've lived through some shit that does not line up with all you've been taught by your ego or the external world — no matter how smart, success, or loving you are. But when you do come out the other side, you will be a stronger, happier, more confident version of you. You'll have embraced all of you — not just the cherry-picked, socially-acceptable bits you spotlight on social media.
Rock, hard place, me.
So at 48, I made a commitment to myself.Read More