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 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
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 4 When I was younger, I hated hugs. It’s not like I grew up in a house without affection. But somewhere along the way, a hug became something that made me freeze. Like my body forgot what to do. Arms stiff. Heart racing. Eyes wide. I would default to… Continue reading The Girl Who Hated Hugs
Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 3 I had my first boyfriend as a freshman in high school. I’m still not entirely sure how it moved from noticing him across the cafeteria to him being my official bf. Maybe it was the “fresh meat” effect at a small school. I was new, wide-eyed, and visibly… Continue reading First Kiss, Last Straw
