Once upon a time…
I grew up thinking I knew how my story would go. I would finish high school, go away to college, earn a degree, get married, work a little, have a couple of kids and then be a boring adult. Eventually there would be a grand kid or two. You know, the usual life stuff.
But that’s not how my story went.
My story had many more twists and turns.
And at the ripe young age of 37, I found myself getting a *whisper under my breath* divorce. (Isn’t that what people do when they talk about divorce? Whisper? Somehow even in the advanced year of 2019, we struggle to just say divorce. Like it’s some kind of infectious disease that will afflict those that dare utter the word.)
Another twist in my story found me leaving my religion (another story for another day) and suddenly needing a career after being a stay-at-home mom for 16 years. It also led me down the Tinder road with a brief stint on other dating sites (those places are slightly terrifying) and trying to remember how to talk to grown ass adults about subjects NOT related to snot, diapers, and sippy cups.
I somehow managed not to ruin my children, even though that seems to be a popular thing that people say to others so they won’t get divorced
And then there were nine…
Then, I went back to school last year, lost my job in January, and here it is March and I’m working on starting up a freelance business.
Because why not? It seems I’ve done everything out of order at least twice in my life.
My story is just beginning. Pop in and visit once in a while.