š©āāļøSubtitle: From Judgey Judy to Just Let Me Put My Reading Glasses On First Let me tell you something about younger me: she was full of opinions. Not the helpful kind, either. The āIāll never do thatā kind. The judgment came easy, the eyebrows were perpetually raised, and the eye-rolls were Olympic level. I had …
Continue reading š āāļøThings I Swore Iād Never Doā¦ and Now I Do Them Allāļø
I really thought I was doing something. Like, bold-woman-walking-into-her-silver-era energy. Graceful. Grounded. Glowy. Growing out my gray hair felt like a power move. A ātake thatā to beauty standards. A quiet revolution on my scalp. But somewhere between month three and my third spiral in the mirrorā¦it started to feel less like a revolution and …
Continue reading āØGray Hair Was Supposed to Be Empoweringā¦ Until It WasnātāØ
(And no, I donāt mean metaphorical jailāI mean orange jumpsuit, cafeteria mystery meat, and one phone call kind of jail.) Listen, Iām generally a loving, patient, āchoose kindnessā kind of gal. But there are momentsāvery specific momentsāwhen I feel an unholy urge to throw my manners in a blender, hit purĆ©e, and watch the chaos …
Letās play pretend, shall we? Imagine a day where everything goes right. The coffee is strong (and sweet), the waistband of your favorite skort fits like it did in 2001, and your to-do list mysteriously disappears. That, my friends, is what I call the perfect day. Let me walk you through itā¦ I wake up …
Continue reading š My Perfect Day (With a Side of Reality)
Letās just get this out of the way: gravity is rude, collagen is shy, and my knees now make more noise than my Bluetooth speaker. But you know what hasn't aged a day? My sass. That sparkle? Still intact. That eyebrow raise that says ābless your heartā and ātry meā at the same time? Flawless. …
Continue reading My Body May Be Aging, But My Sass Is Timelessš°ļø
Popcorn in hand, judgment dialed to high, and heart fully committed because who needs therapy when youāve got sarcasm, tribal councils and elimination challenges? Thereās something magical about slipping into your comfiest loungewear, grabbing a snack (or three), and turning on a reality show that makes you gasp, giggle, and say āoh no she didnātā …
Honey without Flowers 