I said it. I debated saying it, wondering if it would sound too arrogant and you might roll your eyes at me like Zooey does.
I got married six years ago tonight. Tonight, Scout and I wished each other Happy First Unanniversary. I’m sorry we were not right for being married to each other, and the trip out over the 4th just reaffirmed that. But damn, I’m glad we figured out we like each other way better from a distance. He’s one of my favorite people text at random moments.
I feel a smidge like a fraud being all “ooooh I lurve meeee” when I’m popping zoloft daily and loving hydrocodone for a sleep aid.
Hey, I’m honest with ya’ll.
Oh, I’m naked in bed right now while I’m writing.
Sometimes I overshare.
I like that about me too.
I’m still not skinny. Right now I don’t care.
Tonight I like myself, and I can’t understand why I ever didn’t.
But I know. I know all the shit I pull on myself that deserves a bitch slap talk to my own hand.
Right now I’m over it. I’ve called myself on my shit.
Right now, I have no fear. I used to have two huge fears. 1. That I couldn’t be a good parent to Alex on my own. Myth. Busted. 2. That the Dude would leave me for someone else and I would be alone. See 1. for additional reasons why that freaked me out.
Well it happened. The exact thing I feared most, it happened.
And I survived it.
And I kicked its ass.
And after all this time . . .
I fucking like myself.
I treat myself better.
I work myself harder. Because I trust my abilities now. I know I can do this. I got this thing. No matter what this “thing” is.
I trust myself. I trust my gut, I listen to my gut.
I understand what I believe about God and the whole wtf is the meaning of my life.
I get what path I’m supposed to be on (and I’m on it). I get what I’m supposed to be learning.
I fucking GET. IT.
I get me.
*apparently the pharma kicked in while I was writing this, I may not remember any of this in the morning. So good thing I wrote it down now eh?*