A Trigger is a Sensitive Thing

Gah dang it, 32 is going to be my best year yet. Yes, I've had to come to terms with my gray hairs and wrinkles. I discovered another wrinkle the other day right between my eyes that looks like I'm permanently scowling. The only way to get rid of it is to look completely surprised, like I've just rolled up on a bear at a campsite. I've never actually seen a bear in the open before. Truth be told, the only bears I've ever seen in real life are the ones behind bars down at Baylor, which is probably why I have the damn scowl anyway.

I've been working out fairly intensely since spring break of this year. In fact, I've done more physical exercise in the last four months than I've done in the last four years. I'm in probably the best shape of my life and I know that I could defend myself pretty well in a cage fight.

But some opponents don't show up in a ring with wire around it.

I resigned from my normal, stable job in favor of doing something almost impossible. On a whim today I researched how many women have ever won an Academy Award for best original screenplay, because I noticed I don't see a lot of women in that area. In the award's 76 year history, 8 women have clenched the title. Half of those women shared the award with another male writer. The last woman to get up there to be applauded by pretentious people with vacation homes in Europe was Diablo Cody, ten years ago. I remember watching her up there with Bettie Page bangs like mine. I thought, "Yeah, see? I can."

And as I drove home today after a day of errands and mom things, I really realized how fearless I have become. I wouldn't say reckless, because that implies a lack of thought. Oh no, this was all pre-meditated. I committed first degree murder on a life I did not want to live anymore.

I don't want to be a slave to fear and anger. I don't want to live average. I don't want to just get by. I want to run right out into the middle of the whole world screaming like Connor McGregor, maybe with my middle fingers flexed firmly at my adversity, and let everyone know I am here and I ain't scared of nothin'. Not anymore.

God has rounded me out into a good woman I think. I do believe this is how God would have me live. Well, maybe without flipping the bird. But Lord knows, I ain't perfect!

I am grateful for all the rain and thunder I sat in before. I feel like I've lived several lives in my three plus decades on the planet. I had the childhood one, then the really stupid one. Then I had one where I pretended to be an adult who didn't drink, but was still miserable most of the time. I gave away a lot during that time. No one victimized me. I put a price on my head and let it all happen because the fear of the unknown was worse than the fear of staying.

But now, I'm as free as a bird. I'm not in any kind of relationship by my own choice. I take care of myself as best I can and I'm thankful for my solitude most of the time. For once I am not sinking my bubbling, exploding, white light energy into the deep abyss of a relationship formed out of need, rather than want. This means I do sugar scrubs on my face whenever I damn well please, and sometimes I talk to my dogs more than a person probably should - which is still ok.

I know that right now as I sit here, I have the very best possible life I could have at this exact moment. I know one day it'll be different and I will be better for everything I've experienced in my whole life. Ever. It's always good if you choose to see it that way.

I hope you come to see it that way too, if you don't already. Life is so grand and wonderful and painful and sad and beautiful. It's all a mess -- a swirling, floating mess. And each day is an opportunity to look at that and say, "Yes, this is meant to be. All of it."

I've lived both ways a person can live. This way is mighty choice. I think I'll keep it.