Yesterday, I turned 36. Without much fanfare, but nonetheless, it happened. I had been wondering how this birthday would hit me since last year I nearly had a meltdown over turning 35. Thankfully, I maintained my composure and was actually ok with the whole thing. After all, 36 is one of those non-events we all go through. It isn’t a milestone birthday. There really wasn’t anything attached to this particular age for me. Last year, I had set myself up to be disappointed because I hadn’t had more kids or done more with my life. This year, I’m thinking, “Hey, what the hell else should you have done? You’ve been pretty busy, so quit your bitching.”

I usually look at my birthday as a time to make resolutions. It’s a time to decide once and for all what the priorities for the next year will be. So, this year I have just two things that I want to accomplish. The first is to finish losing the weight I’ve been trying to lose for the past five years. The second is to finish writing this book, Keeping the Faith and find a wonderful publisher who will help me take my work to the next level. Actually, I should probably try to figure out what the next level might be before I start looking for publishers. I’m not even sure what level I’m currently on.

The long and short of it is that I’m finally giving myself a break. I’m no longer going to beat myself up for not having met someone else’s personal idea of who I should be. I’m grown and I have my own goals to meet and my own crosses to bear. If my goals don’t meet with someone else’s expectations of who they want me to be, who gives a shit? Not me. Not anymore…hell, I’m on my way to 40. I don’t have time for self-depricating bullshit like that. I’m happy and so far, I have been fairly healthy. For that I am thankful and I’ll keep on working towards the things that I think will keep me that way. Shouldn’t we all?

Until next time…

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