Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 16 I used to think desire meant surrender.That if you felt the heat, you had to follow it.That wanting someone meant saying yes with your body,even when your heart hadn't caught up. I’ve learned better. These days, I’m no longer rushing toward the spark without checking where it leads.I’m… Continue reading Wanting Without Losing Myself
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 15 What I Thought It Meant to Be a Man or a Woman When I was young, I was told I could be anything.Do anything.And I believed it. For a while. But then the messaging started to seep in, quiet at first, like a draft under the door.You know… Continue reading This Doesn’t Fit
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 14 I used to imagine my future with a kind of cinematic precision. I’d be settled by now.A partner. A house. A shared Sunday morning routine.Some combination of arms to fall into, and someone who always remembers to pick up milk. But instead, I’m 46. Almost 47. A solo… Continue reading Exactly Where I Should Be
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 13 I used to think joy was something reserved for special occasions.A vacation. A celebration. A permission slip. Or maybe something I had to earn, once the work was done, the bills paid, the responsibilities checked off. I thought love had to be proven.That joy had to be justified.That… Continue reading Joy, After All
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 12 In high school, a friend once told me,“Miranda, you’re not sexy. You’re cute.” And I carried that line for years.It nestled somewhere between my collarbone and my confidence,tucked itself into the soft spaces of my growing body,and whispered a story I didn’t know I had permission to question.… Continue reading Sexy, Apparently: A Field Guide
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 11 For a long time, I thought love was supposed to feel like butterflies, that quickening, that rush, that tingle in your gut that made it hard to breathe. I thought adrenaline meant attraction.I thought chaos was chemistry.I thought if it wasn’t all-consuming, messy, magnetic, heart-racing… it wasn’t real.… Continue reading Calm Isn’t Boring, It’s Safe
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 10 I used to think life would unfold the way I planned it. If I showed up, worked hard, loved deeply, and kept trying, things would fall into place on my timeline. But life doesn’t care much for timetables. Or five-year plans. Or tidy endings tied up with a… Continue reading Learning to Let Go
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 9 I remember being on a date once.A bad one. The man had introduced himself as a comedian,and I kept waiting for him to get funny.Instead, he complained. A lot. He told me about the city he used to live in,how his old stand-up crew would stay out late… Continue reading Permission to Leave
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 8 I have spent years falling for almost.The almost-love.The almost-available.The almost-ready.The almost-promises whispered late at night, wrapped in just enough sweetness to make me hope. I listened to sugar-coated words and called them sincerity.I ignored red flags and called them "growth edges."I mistook affection for intention. But almost never… Continue reading On Almost
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 7 There was a time when I couldn’t feel anything. I don’t mean numb like bored or apathetic.I mean a kind of emotional frostbite, a dull ache in place of what used to be light.A blank space where joy, excitement, even sadness used to live. I went through the… Continue reading The Year My Heart Went Numb
