It’s so easy to be happy. Doesn’t it always seem that way when you are? People are always searching for the recipe to happiness, and here I am, 31 years old, single mom, on the way to a divorce, and I’ve found it. I know that sounds presumptuous but I’m pretty sure I have. And yet, even though I know what the things that make me happy are, it’s so difficult sometimes to give them to myself, to feel that I am worthy of them. There are always things that “need” to be done, way too many obligations, way too few pleasures.
Now just imagine a world where the only things that you engage in are things that you’ve chosen, things that you want to be part of. I’m not saying you have to be enthusiastic about them every single second of your day, but they are things that in general make you feel good. Work that you like. Friends that make you laugh. Sex on a regular basis. Exercise. Delicious food and great entertainment. No more job that you despise but stay at out of fear. Lose touch with that friend that tends to put you down. No more trashing your body with processed shit. Goodbye dry spells that last a year. Just imagine that you could give the world the finger, and only do whatever made you feel good. Just imagine that you could say what you want and really mean it, and really feel that you deserved it. I want a good job. I want to be in better shape. I want to be touched. I want to be loved. I’m pretty sure living like that makes you fucking invincible. I know that if I lived that way I could do practically anything.
My experience throughout the years has been that I don’t always get what I want. But often, I realize too late, that it was because I didn’t have the guts to say, out loud, not to myself but to the world, that I wanted it, that I desreved it, that I was going to get it. And here I am, finally, taking care of myslef. Expressing myself, not repressing myself – man, Madonna got at least one thing right.
2013 has only just begun and already I’m kicking its butt. New years eve was the beginning of a new era for me. An era of expressing my needs, of demanding for them to be met, of not settling for less than what is healthy and good for my body and soul. People can live on bread and water. But life is not about surviving. I think this was a very basic mistake that I have lived by for many years. Keep calm and carry on. Survive. No. I don’t ever want to live that way again. I don’t want my son to live that way. We will never be bread and water people, him and I, we are going to lead plentiful lives, cry when we’re sad, shout when we’re mad, laugh when we’re happy, and know that we are loved always, and that we rock, and we deserve a rockin life.
The Single Mom Club 