A friend told me, “You’ve changed. You’re just different than you used to be.” She said it with a smile and she tried to make it sound like a compliment, but it wasn’t. I could tell. I could feel how uncomfortable she was and I could tell she wanted out of that space with me. She didn’t know what to say to me or what to ask me or what was okay to ask me and so when the small talk ended there were just no other words left. It didn’t anger me. She was right. I have changed. I’ve changed a lot.

It’s amazing what 2019 did to me. I started the year asking Why Me? Within the first two months of the year, my divorce was finally finalized, I was told something was growing inside my uterus, I had a complete hysterectomy, and I missed 6 weeks of work. Fear almost paralyzed me. Fear for my life, for my kids, for my well-being and for my overall sanity. I no longer had control over my hormones or body or my life. I moved through every stage of crazy – stir crazy to bat shit crazy, to just completely out of my mind. (Read What Would You Do If You Weren’t Afraid,   Why Me?,   and   And Now It’s Day 34…)

I had to face the reality that I was out in this world by myself at the age of 45. I was alone for the first time in my life. I had to learn to take care of me all by myself. There was no one to unclog drains and fix my car and take care of the lawn. There was no one to call for a back up when my schedule was double booked. There was no longer a plan or a path or any type of certainty.   (Read  Grandma Smell, Brain Fog, No Metabolism, The Sag, and Fat Armpits…)

There were multiple times I thought 2019 might do me in. I have never cried more than I did this year. I have never doubted myself more than I have this hear. I have never pretended to be happy and okay when I wasn’t more than I have this year. I’ve never said I can’t do this so often. I’ve never been so scared or so sad or so lonely. Ever.

But you know what else? I’ve also never felt this strong and capable. I snaked that damn drain. It was gross and disgusting, but I did it. I also changed the air filters in my car and replaced the shower head and learned to use a weed eater. I hated every single minute of taking care of my lawn, but I did it. I got up every single day and did what I needed to do. No matter how bad I felt or how much I wanted to hide from my struggles. I did it. I made it through every single day.  (Read Behind My Smile and What If The Words Are Gone?)

I’ve also never felt this proud. I’m doing something I hadn’t done in years. I’m learning to ask for help. I hired someone to help me run errands. I gave my boys more responsibilities and they stepped up. I’m pretty proud of them too. I’m also learning to say no. I’m learning to let go of the expectations I’ve had for myself. Not every problem is mine to fix. Not every fight I need to fight. Not everything has to be done well. Sometimes a frozen waffle and sometimes chips and salsa and sometimes donuts are okay for dinner. Sometimes okay is more than enough.

But even more importantly I’ve never felt this loved. I finally know what it feels like to be loved for the dysregulated, unfiltered, hot mess that I am. I’ve felt beautiful for maybe the first time ever. A lot of people stepped up to the plate when I needed them – family, friends, and more than once, complete strangers. They get me. They see me. They know me. And that just feels better than about anything I’ve ever known.

So my response to being told I’ve changed is “Yes, I have. Please let me reintroduce myself. I’m a single mom. I’m a teacher. I’m a partner and a friend and a writer. I’m a margarita drinker and an adventurer. I talk to strangers. I take long walks. I travel to Mexico often. I laugh at my own inappropriate jokes. I am writing a book and I use the word F***. A lot. I’m a little more selfish than I used to be. Less tolerant and less patient. But more passionate and honest and hopeful. More open and more accepting. Not quite satisfied with life in a bubble. I may continue to make you uncomfortable because I’m going to do things you won’t understand and I’m not going to care that you don’t. I went through hell getting here. Becoming this me. I think I’m going to like this me. And that change feels f***ing amazing!”