So you wanna be a TFP Supermodel?

 

 

 

“You know, I love modeling. I’d like to do this forever. When I’m 30, I hope I’m still modeling,” ~ Derek Zoolander, Int’l Male Supermodel, 2001

 

 Ah, the internet – a place that tells you all your dreams can come true while simultaneously crushing them and your self-esteem ...

 

Not many know that I actually started out ‘modeling.’ Did I get famous? No. Was I on my way to being famous? Also ... no. Was I any good at it? So, not really, but ... that’s not why I am here.

As I am writing this, I totally feel like that 90-year old war hero sitting on his front porch, regaling anyone who will listen with adventurous tales of his youth ... the only difference is I’m not 90, the most adventurous part of my youth was spent raising my daughter and I’m just here to pass along some – hopefully - helpful tips for aspiring models – time for print (TFP) or otherwise.

When I thought I wanted to be a model, the entertainment industry climate was much different.  There was a lot of footwork because you had to physically ‘go-see’ potential clients in person to see if they wanted to hire you for a job/modeling gig. Agents had look-books, models had compcards/zedcards which were basically their mini-portfolios – which cost some money. And if you planned to submit your photos to an agency, you had to physically mail a packet to them and wait until you either get a phone call or that rejection letter along with your returned packet.

Now, we have the internet, digital submissions, photographers who are willing to work for trade and digital compcards and portfolios – although we call them Instagram, Wordpress and Wix.

 

Over the last year, I have been working with a lot of models for projects of my own on a TFP basis. I have noticed that a lot of models probably don’t know a thing or two about a thing or two because ... most photographers have only been on one side of the lens. That is not meant to offend, it’s just a reality. So, they can’t really give advice on the hustle if they have never been a part of it.

So, I am going to list a few tips and things to ponder for new and even experienced models – and even photographers who genuinely want to help those aspiring to be and do more than time for print.  Or even if anyone just wants to collab as an art/project model because they have their dream job already, some of this info will help everyone on both sides.

First and foremost, I’m gonna put this out there: MODELS – get yourself a “Go-Bag.” This is a bag of necessities you bring with you to every shoot. It should have bobby pins, safety pins, portable mini sewing kit, brush, hair product, lotion, make-up, accessories, extra shoes, nude hose, convertible bra in nude and black, panties/thong in nude and black, scissors, a regular sized mirror (like, notebook paper sized or smaller, unless your session is in a studio with a mirror)  ... wardrobe tape, boobie/nipple tape, and bandaids. Plus ... an extra outfit or choices/accessories if it’s not provided for you. Back in the day, I carried a few compcards with me, but that’s probably not a thing now.

As a photographer, I have my own ‘Go-Bag’ and it includes some of those items, mainly the hardware like scissors and small tools and pins. However, not everyone is like me and all models should be prepared. Photographers should probably also add a few things to their carry-along items just in case – it really is helpful. You may never need it, but the one time you don’t have things, you’re going to need them.

I know because I’ve been there. Recently.

If there is nothing else you get from this, then at least take the go-bag seriously. I used to carry my stuff in a carry-on bag/rolling suitcase. These days, I roll my equipment around in a “mommy-wagon” and includes extras like accessories and sometimes wardrobe options.

You know, like a mom ...

This one may hurt someone’s feelings, but just know this hit me too – dress for your body-type. I wish there had been someone checking me when I showed up looking like a busted can of biscuits the times I shoe-horned myself into outfits that did NOT fit or look right on me. But people are too nice – me included.

We can be chic and modern at any age, but at 48 I’m not going to be wearing something someone in their 20s would wear. Sure, it may look okay, but it won’t make me look like I’m in my 20s. I will just look like a 48-year-old trying to look like she’s in her 20s. (This does not apply to cosplay/costumes.) We always talk about men aging like fine wine and other bullshit, but women ... we majorly glow-up as we age. That’s not to say don’t wear sexy clothes. I like to think of it as finding a way to make clothing sexy.

Plus, no one wants to look like they are competing with their younger counterparts. Speaking of – the above can also be applied to young models, too.

Expressions – practice and use them. Modeling is acting, too.

Unless you have perky boobies or no boobies, wear a bra or boobie tape those bitches into an attractive place so they do not reach your belly button when you sit down or create a knuckle-effect in your armpit. (Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, if I see it, you know you’ve seen it.) Contrary to what anyone may think, I do not like the extra work in photoshop but I do it because if you don’t look good, neither do I.

Learn to do your own make-up or invest in getting it done professionally on the day of the shoot. Even a TFP shoot requires some investment as a model – whether it’s an outfit, accessories or making sure your face looks flawless. Same with your hair. If you can make a wig or hairpiece work – great. But trust me, a wig will always look like a wig.

This one is basically good etiquette – never contact a photographer for free pics (TFP). If they are interested, they will contact you. If you are not sure that they are not sure that you are interested, leave a passive-aggressive “wow, I really love your work” comment on one of their photos/timelines, etc. If they reply with interest, awesome. Not every photographer has a project that fits just anyone, and no one wants to look like or be the asshole. If they don’t hit you back with a “would love to shoot you sometime,” don’t take it personal. A lot of us are just waiting for the right project to come along that you may be a good fit for - and some are just not interested.

Honestly, I have never asked a photographer to photograph me TFP because my pride wouldn’t let me. If they made a request but never followed up to schedule, I didn’t follow up. However, when I was going on auditions for movies/television, I got rejected 99% of the time and I couldn’t take it personal. If I did, I’d have zero self-esteem. You can’t control other people’s visions the same way they can’t control yours.

Be picky. You don’t have to do all the TFP for “experience.”  I’d like to say the same to photographer’s, too. Don’t feel pressured to post any photos that do not show you at your best because you dislike hurting someone’s feelings – photographers don’t consider feelings when posting our work. However, just know that if you don’t look good, we don’t look good.

That said, models feel free to be honest with photographers up front about things you notice in your photos that they may not. Like, under eye bags, stretch marks and acne (scars or otherwise). Sometimes we don’t notice those things because we see y’all as a total package. At least I do. However, as a female, I do notice things and touch them up as I see them. Sometimes I go nuts, other times I go easy. Because I photograph and edit the way I want to be photographed and edited.

If you are not picky, you will end up working with a photographer who wants to body paint your semi-nude body into a painted canvased backdrop and then pray to baby Jesus those photos don’t end up online if you do, in fact, become famous.

Not that I would know anything about that ... but I digress.

Now, here are some other things to consider:

1. For legit paying gigs that will result in portfolio building tear sheets (which is what every professional model wants), you will need agency representation.

2. Not everyone will make it as a model in the industry, but everyone can be a model for the right project.

3. Find a niche. Work it.

4. Photographers are not model managers.
5. Not everyone will want to work with everyone.

About 20 years ago, I had a pretty well-known entertainment manager lay some hard truths on me about the industry and my chances of becoming part of it. Nothing about my looks or talent, and I didn’t take it personal because I’m a reasonable girl and I knew he was right. If I had to give anyone any advice at all, it would be to figure out if you want this as a career or a hobby and work towards that in the smartest way possible.

And most importantly, have fun with it and don’t give up. Maybe you might not ‘make it’ in the way you imagined, but you may surprise yourself by creating success in a different aspect of the industry.

 

 

 

Sex/Life: Not Real Life

Photo by @Fenix_Images (IG)

So, there I was, a few Sundays ago, sitting in front of my computer, expressly typing out my thoughts and feelings concerning a new series I had just binge-watched on Smutflix. I had a lot of thoughts and feelings, apparently, because here I am - several weeks later - still writing. 

Or, rather, re-writing. 

It’s not the first time that I’ve wasted hours of my life on a series that glamorizes dysfunctional, emotionally manipulative, codependent relationships. It’s literally what all Kdrama serials seem to be about - and I “sarang” (사랑/love) the hell out of those. 

Sex/Life was different, though. It left a pretty sour taste in my mouth. (Don’t be gross.)

It's about a married woman who decides she is not satisfied with her sex life with her husband and resorts to fantasizing and journaling about her past “relationsex” with a toxic ex-boyfriend - for whom she still has some unresolved feelings - mostly between her legs. Things get complicated when her husband reads the journal, and then escalate when her ex shows up.

The lead actress said the show was about: “Being a mom and still wanting to be the sexual goddess at the same time. You don’t have to lose one for the other.” 

Yeah, I definitely did NOT get that vibe. Not at all. Because you don’t have to fantasize about another man to be a wife, mom & sexual goddess, either. You just have to love your husband and communicate your needs honestly. This show really took things to an extreme.  

Really, I didn’t go into this with any expectations. I was actually drawing and put the show on for background noise. Next thing I know, I’ve abandoned my sketchpad and I’m sitting on the couch, yelling and swearing at the people inside the magic picture box like men who couch-coach during a televised sporting event. 

The message I got was about a woman who was “never happy, never satisfied.” 

It’s a quote my husband likes to throw at me when I ask him to move something and then ask him to move it again - “but this time can you move it a little more to the left?” Just kidding. Usually, it’s about how much of his attention I want - it’s never enough. But I digress. 

Don’t get me wrong, there is truth in still wanting to feel desired as a woman, whether you are married with or without kids. I get that, I agree with it. But not to the point that you look outside your marriage or other committed relationship to find that feeling. It’s not fair to your person. 

Why was I so invested in this colossal shit show?

And then it hits me: I was triggered because I’ve been that woman’s husband. I know what it feels like to find out you’re not enough and then try so hard to become enough.

 

It’s like when songs take you back to certain memories, this show took me back to my own experiences and what it felt like to be in the shoes of the husband in that show. And no one was addressing that more than they were concerned with who the wife was going to choose … Her successful, hot, family man husband or her equally as hot, ridiculously hung, toxic ex-boyfriend and a fantasy life of “the total package” she dreamed in her head. 

(Well, except her best friend … but there is a reason for that … )

So, she drags her husband by her tampon strings, weighing her options. He flops around trying to do everything and anything to win back his wife, ultimately leading to what I would consider irreparable damage to the foundations of their marriage. Or, as he so perfectly puts it,  a “stain” on their marriage. 

Having been in relationships where I’ve been cheated on or strung along until someone decided what or who it is they wanted (spoiler alert: it wasn’t me) does a number on your self-esteem and confidence level. I’ve never strung anyone along because I always felt that if I was questioning my feelings for someone, I already knew the answer. 

I’ve also never fantasized about any of my exes - even when I was single. 

Okay, so, wishing a swift karmic payback does not count as fantasizing. And it’s brief.

 

Usually by the time a relationship got to the point of toxicity, I’d already exhausted myself emotionally, physically and financially trying to be all the things I thought I needed to be to keep that person. Even though my feelings and pride are hurt, I’m literally just relieved to breathe and focus on getting my self-esteem back. 

Also, what would I fantasize about? Sex? That’s only great when there is more than just physical intimacy. It doesn’t negate the issues in a relationship that caused it to end. It also doesn’t make me forget how I was treated and ultimately dumped, so if anyone asks, the sex was subpar, and the penis was micro. 

 

Call me petty, because I am. 

Let me tell you a story: I did take back an ex after he dumped me - once. Not because it was a great relationship or even that the sex was good. It was because I am dumb, and I made a stupid decision. But all the problems that were there before I got dumped, were still there when we got back together … and I was dumped again. 

Actually, it may have been twice. Same guy. Like I said, I am dumb. 

When I was working as a journalist, I attended a marriage and relationship workshop for an assignment. The first question asked was, “What is the number one cause for divorce?” Hands shot up and some of the answers were the usual: cheating and finances. Someone even shouted, “irreconcilable differences!” - which got a lot of laughs. 

It turns out the number one cause of divorce is that couples stop taking care of their relationship with each other. It can lead to feeling unfulfilled, worthless, and open to fantasizing about someone old or anyone new. Which is the train wreck that the writers of Sex/Life were selling.

Never mind that the wife didn’t communicate this to her husband. Instead, she chose to write her (very detailed) fantasies about her ex-boyfriend out in her laptop journal every time she made a failed, half-hearted attempt to initiate sex with her husband. Then conveniently left it open on the kitchen counter where he would read it.

Very passive aggressive of her … 

She let her husband think everything was fine. Until he found out that it wasn’t fine and that he had to compete with another man to keep his wife and family together. 

A man who cruelly and unceremoniously dumped the wife years earlier, but now has second thoughts (probably after seeing her happy status updates on social media) and thinks he is entitled to come after what another man already earned - “because I knew her first.”

Oh, if I can count all the times I’ve heard girls tell me that about a guy I thought I was dating … 

No, I don’t have unresolved feelings or issues from the past. As a Scorpio, when I am done, I am done. I’ve moved on. 

However, I never forget. Obviously. Because I write about them in my very open, public blog. If there was any useful compensation that I could take from those ‘relationships,’ it is the blog material. Again, I digress. 

Yes, Sex/Life is just a show. I get it. Lately, though, it’s been all shows that depict some manner of adultery and justification - literally degrading marriage and commitment in favor of the idea that it’s okay to give up on your promises and vows for selfish desires, and that men and women were not meant to be monogamous or that God will send you another woman’s man as your soulmate (or vice versa). Which is complete bullshit and a copout for anyone that needs to believe that to justify living outside a moral compass.  

People say that relationships are hard, and they take work. I used to believe that, too. But now, I think that relationships or marriages that have been neglected and mistreated beyond repair are the ones that are hard and take work. 

Life gets busy. Couples get distracted, create excuses not to be intimate, affectionate or go on dates. A new opportunity presents itself and they are convinced that maybe they married or committed to the wrong person, not realizing it was their own neglect that led to failure.

And, now, we have Hollywood glamorizing that - and horny housewives and bitter, heartbroken women are idolizing these ideas as either normal or something to aspire to in reality. 

You know, I slammed Twilight and 50 Shades of Grey for featuring codependent, emotionally draining, dysfunctional relationship dynamics as romance. Maybe I didn’t give either enough credit. Because in both of those series, we have brooding men doting on their women and trying to figure out how to work through their issues together - monogamously. 

Speaking of, I don’t believe in marriage counseling because inviting someone else into your life to solve your issues doesn’t make your marriage stronger, but rather handicaps your ability to grow and evolve together by learning how to communicate and work with each other instead of through another person. Not a popular opinion, I’m sure therapists would disagree, saying sometimes people need a mediator to help them ‘find their words and feelings.’ Personally, I think it is a weakness and does not create strength in each other, just a temporary band-aid until a new issue presents itself and then all the others come out of remission. Yet again, I digress. 

If there is anything to take away from that show at all - if you are watching it or decide to watch it later - it’s that if your ex facetimes you while he is shagging your best friend … he has no respect for you and does not actually love you. And your best friend is a whore who doesn’t care about your friendship more than having sex with the one ex who broke you beyond pieces - it’s a huge betrayal. Also, no one is entitled to someone else’s girl/boyfriend, fiance, wife or husband because they were there first. 

But most importantly, if your person asks for time to sort out their feelings concerning an ex in comparison to the love and life they shared with you for years, then they (& you) already know the answer. 

It’s not you. 

Confessions of a Middle-Aged Diet Queen: A 72-Hour Fast

Guys. 

I just broke a three-day fast and let me tell you - it hurt a few feelings. Most of them were in my stomach, but I might be a little traumatized. 

This didn’t come out of nowhere - I’d been reading about the benefits of intermittent and prolonged fasting as well as ‘time restricted eating’ and decided to adopt that as a lifestyle. You know, to save money on groceries since inflation hit all the grocery stores. 

Kidding. 

It’s for health reasons. 

At the risk of over-sharing (and a possible HIPAA violation?), I will briefly explain: I’d been

Candida overgrowth is a SYMPTOM.

dealing with severe inflammation, sudden weight gain and inability to lose it, chronic fatigue, headaches - literally a buffet of symptoms since my early forties. Off and on. Doctor after doctor treated my symptoms and they would get better, but always come back. Several months ago, I had a ‘flare up,’ saw three doctors, and since all labs came up normal, they assumed I was not making the effort I said I was making. 

Listen, I am the queen of dieting. I know how to lose weight. 

This wasn’t about the weight as much as it was a real concern for my own health - all the
weight was centered around my belly and back - I literally looked like a walking lollypop. Belly fat is dangerous - according to medical science, and I had gained a lot of it. It wasn’t until the leg pains, numbness, film over my eyes and heart palpitations that I panicked and forced my current medical team (no, I don’t have a team, just two doctors) to examine the cause. But, again, labs were “within range” so I was dismissed. 

I even went to a Functional Medical Clinic and was told I probably had mold toxicity - just by looking at me! Still waiting on the verdict of that blood test and MRI - this was the first medical professional to NOT brush off my concerns, try to treat symptoms and actually wanted to find the root cause. 

Then, one late night on YouTube (it truly is a lottery of equal parts bullshit and actual, helpful stuff), I met Dr. Eric Berg. And after watching a few of his videos, I wondered if I had been misdiagnosed all those years. 

It was the first time I’d heard of non-alcoholic fatty liver disease, mycotoxins and how your entire digestive system works to make sure your body gets the nutrients it needs, produces hormones, and your gut is working right.  I spent hours watching his videos - and then I met Dr. Ken Berry and Dr. Jason Fung. 

These are not endorsements. More like references. 

All of these doctors are proponents of the health benefits of intermittent fasting, prolonged fasting, time restricted eating … AND the Carnivore and KETO ‘diets.’  

I don’t believe in diets, but I’ve done fasting since I was in high school. But back then we just called it anorexia. 

JUST KIDDING. Anorexia is a mental disorder. I know this because it (and it’s fraternal twin, Bulimia) was my preferred method to lose weight up until my mid 30s. Some people deal with issues/trauma using humor and I’m some people. Get over it. Honestly, if I had known about intermittent fasting all those years ago, I might never have had an eating disorder. I digress. 

When the KETO diet first came to my attention, I didn’t think it was sustainable. How will people get their nutrients? Doesn’t eating a high fat diet cause high cholesterol and heart issues? Doesn’t your body need carbs and SOME sugar for energy? The short answer is no to all of that, but if you are interested in the science behind it, check out the three doctors I mentioned above.  

The few takeaways from studying the research: eating fat does not make you fat. Sugar is broken down into glucose and fructose. The glucose gets dispersed to where it needs to go … and the fructose is just made into fat. So there is no moderation and balance as you get older, especially if you’ve had a bad diet your whole life. And as far as calories in and calories out … for me, it ended up slowing down my metabolism, because my body went into storage mode. 

So, I didn’t start KETO, but instead started eating for fatty liver disease. No sugars, super low carbs, and a few supplements to help with digestion. I did implement time restricted eating - basically, I just made sure I wasn’t snacking during the day, and I was only eating within a certain window of time. In the first week, I lost 2 pounds. It’s not a lot, but after months of not being able to lose ANY weight at all, it felt like I had won a battle. Even more surprising: the inflammation in my body was completely gone. 

After that week, I wondered what intermittent fasting would do, so I started a 16:8 schedule the following week. The pain in my legs started to subside and the heart palpitations were gone. So, I upped the fasting period to 20:4 and my brain fog lifted, eyes cleared up, had more energy and felt like a person again. I also lost more weight. 

Then, as I was reading Dr. Fung’s book ‘The Complete Guide to Fasting,’ I came upon the myriad health benefits to PROLONGED fasting - which is anything from 48 hours and longer - and the unpopular medical science that backs it all up. Science also seems to back up the Ketogenic lifestyle, btw. It’s crazy how much I’ve relied on the food pyramid, calories in/calories out, balance and “everything in moderation” paradigm to find out that it’s pretty much the lie to keep me buying the foods that weren’t helping to heal my body and are designed to keep me sick and depressed. But I digress. 

So, there I was, last Thursday, in my kitchen trying to figure out what to eat for my meal when it occurred to me that I was not hungry. “Should I start a 3-day fast?” I thought to myself … “I should.” I totally ignored my inner reason telling me that perhaps I was not ready and that I needed to store more vitamins and minerals by packing nutrition stores in my body. However, after speaking with my physician and being armed with a multivitamin, electrolyte powder, water and green tea, I committed myself to my first prolonged fast since my mid 30s. Should be a piece of cake. 

DAY 1A: Since my last meal was Wednesday, Thursday should have been day one, but I didn’t remember that until the fast was over. Honestly, it wasn’t terrible. Probably because I didn’t CrossFit that day, choosing to do a low impact HIIT workout and two one mile ‘brisque’ walks. I made a low carb, no sugar cheesecake, froze it for later. I slept great. 

DAY 1B: It’s Friday. Woke up, took a multi-vitamin, drank a glass of water, went to CrossFit. I had a little more energy during my workout and overall, my mood was almost euphoric. I got a lot of work done, cleaned, looked up KETO recipes to see which ones didn’t require obscure and expensive ingredients. Prepped a bunch of food to freeze for easy meals the following week. Started reading a new book. My stomach was asking for food, but I just drank more water and tea. All the Drs said this would help the hunger subside, but either I’m different or they are lying. I went to bed hungry, did not sleep really well. 

DAY 2: Saturday. I woke up because my stomach made a noise it had never made before. It sounded like Audrey Junior from ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ (film). The hunger ‘pains’ started immediately as the rest of my body woke up. I was dizzy and a little nauseated. At this point, I probably should have stopped, but I’m not a quitter. I texted my physician, he suggested bone broth or coffee with full fat butter (and if that didn’t work, I would need to go ahead and eat). Dr. Fung - in his book - also suggested the same. So, I bought beef & chicken bones to make broth and coffee (I don’t usually drink coffee anymore). I went through my kitchen and tossed all the food in my house that had ANY sugar or sugar alcohols. Watched YT videos of other fasters. Tried to keep busy, but ended up in bed, curled up in the fetal position waiting for God to take me, because the food withdrawal was real. Don’t remember when I fell asleep. 

Day 3: Sunday. I actually slept well and woke up refreshed. My hunger pains were gone. Until I remembered that this was the day I could break my fast, and then Audrey Junior woke up to try and coerce me into eating sooner than my normal time. I eat later in the afternoon, so I decided to cook a fresh but small meal. Homemade pasta sauce with no sugar added (they add sugar to the bottled sauces, plus preservatives to extend shelf life), vegetable noodles, and garlic ‘bread’ - no flour, no sugar. I paced the house, cleaned things that weren’t dirty, did my laundry for the second time in three days, sat down, stood up, tried to watch a movie … and then it was time to eat. I was so excited as I plated my food (foodie terminology). It smelled so good. And then I remembered the ‘refeeding’ guidelines outlined in Dr. Fung’s book - basically, you can’t go H.A.M. your first meal out after not eating for 3-days (or, in my case, more). It took me 4 hours to ‘refeed’ myself on broth, an egg, nut butter … up to the meal. And when I finally ate the entire (small) plate of pasta and garlic bread - which was soooo yummy … I didn’t feel so great. I couldn’t move comfortably. I started rethinking my latest life choices. It seemed like the food stayed in my stomach forever, probably because Audrey Junior was trying to save it just in case I was going to fast again. 

MONDAY: Let me tell you how I felt during CrossFit. It was their annual Christmas in July - 12

days of Christmas workout. It took me 41 minutes and I had to shed weight on the last two rounds. However, I never felt like I wouldn’t be able to finish, my body kept going. Six weeks ago, I would not have made it past the ninth round. I also would never have been able to sit down and write a blog post in a single sitting. Haven’t been able to do that in years. Yet, here I am.

 

Hurt feelings and all, I regret nothing.

Challenge accepted and executed. 

Now, during the ‘darkest times’ of my struggle, I watched YouTube videos of others who have done prolonged fasting to see if it was relatable to my own experience. It was not. Their experiences seemed easy - everything you want to see and hear to be motivated to try it out or to keep going. Most said they weren’t hungry, didn’t miss food (except the social aspect of it) and never hit ‘starvation mode.’ 

I wanted to call bullshit, because they all looked at their first meal after three days with tears in their eyes, salivating over their plate like a dog waiting for leftovers. It reminded me of the time my girl friend gave me a spoon of her homemade icing after a year of no sugar. I literally cried in her living room as I ate it. No shame. 

As an aside, there is a chapter in Dr. Fung’s book called “How to Beat Starvation Mode.” I hadn’t gotten to that part yet, so … yeah. Unprepared. 

All that said, I am glad this experiment is over. There are some actual health benefits for your body in fasting for 72 hours (and even up to a week and more) - so I will probably attempt to do this again next month and will continue to do intermittent fasting and follow a modified ketogenic ‘diet.’ It works for me currently. And it feels great to finally see RESULTS!  

Speaking of, I lost 7 lbs in four days to add onto the weight I had already lost. Maybe I'm being prematurely excited, but slow progress is better than no progress. 

A word on the keto diet. I have noticed the headlines demonizing this diet as well as
intermittent, short-term and prolonged fasting. But if you listen to Dr. Pradip Jamnadas, a cardiologist & Dr. Robert Lustig, endocrinologist (lectures are on YouTube), - they all say the same thing - less carbs, no sugar, fasting can be beneficial- for your health. It requires you to ditch the processed foods in favor of more whole foods - which hurts the pockets of the food industry but saves your health. 

I certainly didn’t want to believe THAT science,  until a few months ago when I had my ‘come to Jesus’ moment. There is no weight loss pill or vitamin/mineral supplement that will take care of the underlying condition that is preventing you from being healthy. And no supplement that is better for you than eating your vitamins and minerals. I wanted to believe in carbs and cupcakes, but  I guess I will have to learn to make my own cupcakes without carbs or sugar and hope they will taste as good as the garlic ‘bread’ I made the other day.  

This is not an endorsement or dietary advice. This is based on my own experience due to medical and health necessity.  If anyone reading this is interested in the Keto and intermittent fasting, Dr. Berg, Dr. Jason Fung and Dr. Ken Berry have YouTube channels. Dr. Fung also has a few books out - including ‘The Obesity Code’ which is also a great read. Do not try to medically diagnose yourself. As always, if you are on any medications or have underlying conditions, consult your physician before going on any diet and exercise plan. 

Life: "Post-parting"

I turned 47 last year. 

 

No one heard about it, because I was not motivated to remind everyone of how witty, cool and relevant I still am with my yearly “birthday blog.” Then, I got married this year - something I had been looking forward to for such a long time. And if I was feeling my normal, obnoxiously petty self, I would have posted dozens of photos and blogged about that, too - just for my haters and his exes. 

 

(I see you, still peeping our socials to make sure we’re not happier than you - SPOILER ALERT: we are.) 

But again, there was no motivation. There hasn’t been in a while. 

Even though I’ve been living in Mississippi for almost a full year, and I was excited to start a life here with my husband, to be honest it’s been kind of a struggle. Personally, professionally, mentally and emotionally ... 

And parentally. 

This isn’t a self-pity party, although my current mood and playlist says otherwise. However, I figured out the reason behind my “writer’s block:” what I wanted to write was not what I needed to write. 

So, here I am, sitting in my dining room office, drinking an herbal tea (necessary lifestyle changes) and trying to work through my thoughts and feelings so that I will be able to move forward - mentally and creatively. 

I want to go home. Back to our house in North Carolina. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love Mississippi and I’m still optimistic about our life here. Even if I’ve spent the last year in a professional slump. Trying to start up my photography here hasn’t worked out so far. So, I’ve been reluctantly filling the role of ‘trophy wife’ (in every way except aesthetically). 

 

And I know I married the right guy, because he has been extremely supportive of having a stay-at-home wife while encouraging me to create my own opportunities in all my endeavors. He’s put up with so much in exchange for homecooked meals: portrait test requests, craft project explosions in the kitchen, Amazon impulse buys, herbal teas, potions, vitamins and … frequent trips back home to work with clients … and to see my daughter. 

Because he knows the biggest struggle for me is being so far away from her. She didn’t want to move with us, and I (reluctantly) respect that - she’s an adult now. And I know she wouldn’t be living at home forever. However, hours long phone calls and virtual hugs are not the same. No one prepared me for remote parenting. 

The Internet defines this new transitional period in my life as ‘empty nest syndrome,’ which coincidentally, overlaps the other transitional period in my life - ‘post menopause.’

And it has been emotionally overwhelming.  

One of my favorite quotes is by Margaret Stone: “Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

It is profoundly accurate. 

 

And absolutely antithetical to the ideas published in upbeat web articles aimed at “Empty Nesters.” They all acknowledge that it can be hard for parents to deal with an empty house in the beginning, but ‘oh, look at all the exciting things you will be able to do now’ that your kids are gone. 

Some of which include sleeping in, walking around in various stages of undress and “sex anytime, anyplace, anywhere.” 

Because that is every parent’s dream - to be a lazy, naked, nympho. WHEN THEY ARE OLD. 

I mean, first of all, I’m pretty sure I have not walked around naked on purpose since I was a toddler. And it wasn’t my kid stopping me from doing that as an adult … although it was a good cover when I needed it and dammit, now I won’t have an excuse. 

Juuust kidding. She wasn’t my only excuse. I just wish I could remember the other ones … 

However, I did join a gym this year, hoping to help bring a moderate amount of sexy back … and prepare me physically for the “sex anytime, anyplace part” - you know, in case that turns out to be a thing. 

And if our parents or kids are reading this: obviously, we do everything with our clothes on, nothing touches. There will be no nakedness or nymphomaniacal behavior here - only ocassional laziness.

But, I digress. 

 

Some of the other “things I will love” about being an empty nester were laughable - and subjective. Like, who even is writing these articles? I’m a certain percentage sure it isn’t another ‘empy nester.’ 

Because I don’t know about other parents ‘post-parting,’ but aside from my daughter not living at home, nothing else really changed for me. All the extra free time comes from only working part-time. I still have the same responsibilities as before, but now I just … have more time to do them. 

Speaking of, let me give a quick shout out to the real MVP - my husband - for keeping me busy in my free time by making sure there is always a butt load of laundry, dishes and cleaning. I don’t know what I’d do without him and the trail of socks he leaves from the door to the living room. Every day. 

 

But I bet it wouldn’t be picking up socks.  Kidding. Maybe.

I contribute to the dishes, too! 

 

So, what is the ‘empty nest’ life like for me? Well, you could say it’s been … a learning experiment … I mean, I had all these plans on writing more, traveling, photographing and ... stuff. But what am I actually doing? Well, not that. 

 

Check it: 

I’m holding pop-up concerts in my kitchen using a karaoke app … and adding dance moves I learned from various social media challenges. It’s quite the spectacle. No, I won’t be posting footage to the interwebz - I haven’t hit peak mid-life crisis yet. 

Thanks to YouTube, I was inspired to learn acrylic paint pouring. Now I have a garage wall gallery of abstract art, more coaster sets than I know what to do with, and all the art supplies. I am single-handedly keeping the craft stores here in business.  

Probably the best investment in my physical, mental and social health was joining a CrossFit gym. Initially, it was because my husband suggested I lose a few pounds - and no, I didn’t kill him. Mostly because he wasn’t wrong. But it’s been worth it - each class comes with workout buddies! It’s hard enough to make friends in a new place, much less drag them to the gym so I don’t have to suffer alone. 

It helped to keep me from ambushing my husband as soon as he came home from work every day, like “tell me what the outside world is like? Did you converse with people? Actual people? Tell me everything! WHAT ARE THEIR NAMES … do they smell nice?”

Humor aside, I realize now that I’ve been in a depression. But not the kind mixed with bitterness and petty betchiness I used to experience after getting dumped by some guy I thought I was dating, which would, in turn, motivate me to write a blog or do something creatively destructive with my hair. Some of my better blog posts - and worst bangs - have come from that kind of depression. 

This was a subtle build, so I didn’t really notice at first. Subconsciously, I guess I recognized this transition as one of the last big milestones of parenting and my brain acted accordingly. I didn’t want to acknowledge it; like, if I ignored or denied it, maybe it wouldn’t be true. Post-parting has to be one of the hardest chapters in a parent’s story. Maybe it’s because I only have one kid. Or maybe I’m just being overly dramatic ... because I only have one kid.  

Either way, this is where I am at right now. Alone in my feelings and procrastinating on the inevitable - letting go and embracing a new chapter in my life. Even if I don’t really know what that means. 

 

The husband would say it means being the best trophy wife I can be - JUST KIDDING … 

 

During her junior year of university, my daughter sent me a text (out of the blue) that brought me to tears. She said that I was her role model, an inspiration and the best mom, and thanked me for loving, believing in and encouraging her (paraphrasing). I think that whatever I do from here, I hope she can still say that, and be as proud of me as I am of her.  

I can’t say that this post-parting depression has completely lifted, but maybe I can harness what’s left of it into a mid-life crisis novel. That seemed to work for the authors of Twilight and 50 Shades of Grey. Although I’m not quite sure how to turn a semi-autobiography into a fan-fiction trilogy - much less a single novel. 

Considering none of those novels were literary masterpieces, how hard can it be, though … right?  

In the meantime, I’ll just be over here, shaking my ass around the house, serenading the dishes and laundry, writing, painting and pretending I didn’t just turn 47, reach post-menopause and become an empty nester at the same time. 

And that I don’t want my daughter to come back home to stay for just a little while longer. 

Confessions of A Part-Time Social Media Narcissist

My social media presence has always talked a big game. I can admit that.

From its humble beginnings on MySpace, to the cross-platform franchise expansion into Facebook, Instagram & Twitter, I created my own virtual 'avatar' -  of being a total package. 

Cool, funny, smart and reasonably attractive. 

Coincidentally, that may or may not have been the Tinder bio that landed me an engagement. And I should be married right now except for the establishment politicians playing bullshit games because of the upcoming election. So f*K them, I’m wearing my rings anyway. 

But, I digress.

Why am I talking about this? Because I’ve recently moved, am temporarily unemployed and

have a metric-ton of free time for self-reflection and introspection as I try to figure out what I’m going to be when I grow up. 

 

And it was time for me to start writing again. I missed writing. Or maybe I just missed writing about me. Regardless, here I am.

Growing up, I really wanted to be popular. It just wasn’t in the cards for me. I want to say it was because I wasn’t pretty enough, or that I was too nerdy, but now I’m thinking that a higher power was trying to protect me from myself. Maybe it was God; or maybe it was just my parents keeping me grounded. Could be it was a little of both. 

Still, it didn’t stop me from trying and sometimes hard lessons need to be learned. Several times until I learn them. Will keep everyone posted on how that goes. 

You know how we say some people look better online? It’s me. Some people is me. Because the reality of who I am in person is not the image I seemed to project online. Which is why I didn’t see any kind of ‘popularity’ until social media. 

MySpace was the first social media platform I joined. 

It was MySpace that first showed me I could do things out loud. It grabbed me right by the low self-esteem on the tail end of a break-up and offered me a platform to reinvent myself and announce my ‘glow-up.’ Before the internet, the only way to do that would have been to write Sally Jessie Raphael and hope to be invited on her show to be featured on the “Look At Me Now” episode. (That’s taking it back.)

Or hope that a mutual friend of a mutual friend who is friends with your best friend notices your upgrade and gets the word out. Which is how social media works, only it’s pretty much instant and has a wider reach. 

See, we all want to be seen and heard, because we are very important people with very important and relevant things to share. I’m not going to pretend I built multiple social media accounts and started a blog because “muh family and friends” though. Like everyone else, I wanted to be seen and heard as a very important person and share my very importance and relevance … to be validated by friends, frenemies, strangers … and exes. 

And that’s how it started - superficial, and fueled by a proclivity towards my own narcissism -

which IMO is what drives people to social platforms. 

I became a self-managed, cross-platform sh*t-show. My brand was built on half-naked “modeling” pictures mixed with some of my work as a writer and photographer. It worked, though. For the first time in my life, I was kind of popular ... people knew who I was … but in hindsight, they only knew who I projected myself to be ... which was really nothing to brag about. I'll get to that. 

What no one tells you, though, is just how hard it is to maintain the image of your own self-importance and self-relevance to other people. It became a second job to find ways to level-up. Not that anyone was asking me to. But the trade-off was worth it: instant gratification and a 'Cady Heron' level of self-esteem. In fact, my head was so far up my own ass, I didn’t see that the kind of attention I was attracting wasn’t … well … flattering. 

Before I continue, I’m not dumb. On the contrary, I’m very smart. So smart, in fact, that I know when I’m doing something stupid. I recognize that in myself. It just takes me a minute to figure it out sometimes. And I promise that, eventually, most of a lesson was learned here. 

My “great awakening” to the absurdity of what I created for myself should have happened the night I was introduced on stage at a local pub as “the most masturbated to girl on MySpace.” Right before killing a George Michael song - that would become my trademark gig. It didn't. In retrospect, I’m embarrassed to admit that I was actually flattered. 

Yep, I did that all by myself. I didn’t upload all those revealing pictures of myself thinking anyone 

would look at them and think, “Gosh, she looks smart and talented.” I may have shared some of my work as a photographer and writer, but I was not interested in promoting that as much as pics of myself. I spent my entire life wishing I looked like someone else, not that I had someone else’s skillset. I’ve been called smart and talented. Just not “pretty.” 

Admittedly, being referenced to as someone to masturbate to that one time, wasn't being called pretty. But considering where I was, and for all intents and purposes - close enough. 

There is probably some irony in exploiting the most destructive part of yourself (narcissism) to promote yourself ... to yourself. Because I probably knew I wasn’t really doing anyone but myself any favors with any of the content I posted. Except maybe the pervs. 

As I sit here roasting myself for creating an online avatar I thought I was only pretending to be, I know that the only exaggeration was the hype. That’s how marketing works and I was so good at it that I even fooled myself  … into fooling myself … I've come to refer to it as the 'Cady Heron' effect.  

But, like all things that weren’t meant to be, eventually it came to an end. Sort of. 

What was it that brought me down? My ego? My haters? My age? My parents? 

Me.  

 

I wish I could say it was because I had some deep, philosophical epiphany about ‘faking’ myself too seriously. My "oh, my" moment was less profound. 

As hard as it is to believe, I just lost interest in my own narcissism. Seeing everyone else doing the same thing I was doing, showed me that I was doing the same thing that everyone else was doing - for the same reasons.  Which is laughable - the idea of wanting to seem unique to everyone else … like everyone else. But I did learn two things: 

1. I am, in fact, selectively stupid. 

2. Social media is designed to get everyone into one database model. There's a conspiracy        

    fact in there, but I'm sure y'all can figure it out. 

Social media is a conditioning engine - whether intentional or not. It creates influencers and followers, out of influencers and followers, trying to influence followers by offering opportunity and suggestion for us to become influencers and attract followers. You are both, regardless of your level of membership.     

Funny enough: My first observation about social media came after a MySpace top eight shuffle. I didn’t understand that my ex replacing my spot on his top eight with his ex was basically a two weeks’ notice of intent to vacate the relationship. I predicted back then the ‘paradoxical’ impact social media would have on interpersonal relationships. But I didn’t consider the way in which that would happen would be through us - people. 

 

Like … It wasn’t MySpace that told me to be a self-absorbed attention wh -- seeker. It was just the opportunity it presented, and I escalated it from there. 

 

I’m not saying that everyone on social media is looking for attention, recognition,

accountability, and/or validation. We all have our reasons for chain-posting our best life, workouts, selfies, advice, opinions and post-break up epiphanies on marriage and relationships that have absolutely nothing to do with proving anything to strangers, friends, ourselves, exes or haters. 

Some of us are just here in case we need to do research. Kidding. Sort of ... 

What I will say is: the convenience, connection, range and opportunities offered through social apps and smartphones engender addiction. I saw it in me, as I saw it in everyone else, and I still see it. It's the nature of the beast. I know few people who have never had a social media presence and even fewer who've deleted their online presence and didn't either reactivate or show back up on another social media platform like Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok, Tinder or AdultFriendFinder. 

After all of that … I did not deactivate any of my accounts. I thought about it, but “muh family and friends.” 

On that note, if you read this and you feel attacked, it’s not about you - unless you make it about you. However, thank you for reading this post that I most definitely didn’t write for the sole purpose of being validated as important and relevant by sharing its importance and relevance.  

After-thought: before you roast someone for their social media "narcissism," stop and think about one thing: whatever they are getting out of social media might be the only thing that is keeping them above water in their personal lives. So live by the 2nd Most Golden Rule: if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. 

 

This has been a special presentation of The Contradiction of My Own Obsessive-Compulsive Social Media Narcissism 

 

 

That's Right, B*****es ... I'M ENGAGED

It’s been exactly 14 days, some hours and many minutes since my 46^th birthday. 

Nothing is different. Just wanted to let everyone know I made it two weeks into my new year and I’m still the same as I was that many days ago – physically and mentally.

Well ... one thing has changed and that's my relationship status.

No, I’m not back on the market. But I get it: I’m kind of a catch. What guy wouldn't want a chick who is basically a human lie-detector? A domesticated AF goddess who knows how to fake the chill when needed, have a good time but is also low-key CIA, FBI and NSA skilled enough to be able to find Waldo and Carmen San Diego without a single clue?

Apparently ... every guy I've ever dated up until I met my boyfriend. Who I can now call my fiancé.

That’s right, bitches – I’m ENGAGED. #1092dayfiancé

… finally … right?? 

And to say that I am excited would be an understatement.

I’m sure my fiancé thought it was cute in the beginning but I am quite sure that reminding him of my (our) new relationship status by randomly thrusting my engagement-ringed hand in his direct line of sight is going to get old – if it hasn’t already.

I. Don’t. Care.

And when we are married, I’m going to probably annoy TF out of him by changing my name in his phone to "Dawn 'The Wife' Harbin" and randomly talking in third person.

“Mrs. Harbin will be leaving for work now.”
“Mrs. Harbin is waiting for her good morning hug.”

“Mrs. Harbin wants to know why you are on the other couch instead of on the loveseat next to her.”

Which will undoubtedly lead to:

“Mr. Harbin thinks Mrs. Harbin is going to need to chill TF out now.”

Juuuuust kidding.

He would definitely say that, but I would not … um … over-reference myself in third person.

Look, I worked hard to get here. It took me THREE WHOLE F*ing YEARS to grow on him. Because while I can look great online and clean up nice, I’m not a hotty by nature, so I had to rely on my personality, domestic skillset and patience to put with his shit.

Just kidding. I had him at that RIGHT SWIPE … #RealLifeTinderella

Don't get me wrong, he's awesome and I know I'm equally lucky. In a time when it's become trendy to denegrate men, I'm not feminist that way. I am proud to have found one who accepts and puts up with my crazy shit, too. And you guys really have NO idea ... 

Speaking of (not really, but let’s go here), it’s a lot of extra work being engaged. Now that I have a ring, I can’t walk out of the house looking busted anymore. Some effort needs to be made with my appearance so that I look like I match the ring. Not only do I need to do basic hair and make-up, but my wardrobe has transitioned to be more in line with Instagram influencer than Walmart shopper now.

BTW, when I say ‘Instagram influencer,’ it just means I’m not wearing sweats or yoga pants. 

I digress. #feyoncé

And like every newly engaged girl, I wanted to roll out my announcement with super awesome, bougie, engagement pix on my social media feeds so all my friends can join in my excitement that someone finally “put a ring on it.” After 13 years of me blogging about douchebags and my own stupidity and bad decisions, I can now start a new chapter sharing my newfound relationship expertise and the 12-steps to finding and keeping your soulmate ...

Not really. My blog is based on a steady flow of pettiness and sarcasm and the only reason for my engagement photos to be on social media is so that my past can see my future and hate on it even more.

Because I’m petty. #pettyassbitch

Anyway, I really wanted photos to happen sooner, but as it turns out, it wasn’t easy to just book a photographer. Especially last minute – which is how I’m rolling these days with my schedule.

Side note: I don’t think I really appreciated me as a photographer until I started looking for a photographer.

Scrolling through portfolios and comparing investment information made me realize something profound about my time and talent that was completely unexpected: I photograph people the way I want to be photographed and I give people what I want to be given at a price that I would be able to afford.

So, I’ve basically been looking for MYSELF and wasted so much time doing it, that I missed my opportunity to book within our availability since my fiancé will be leaving in a week. And I am not sure how much longer I can maintain myself to be able to look good in the dress I will be wearing. There’s, like, such a small window of allowance in weight fluctuation with my dress in the size and style I chose that was deliverable via Amazon Prime because I have no patience or chill or self-control when it comes to food.

It’s a struggle. For real.

I know yawl can relate and I appreciate that so much. Maybe you guys can also relate to your man not understanding why we don’t take selfies for engagement announcements. 

Really. #thathappened

My fiancé said AND I QUOTE to set the self-timer on the camera and take them myself - LIKE WHO IS THIS MAN AND DOES HE EVEN KNOW ME?!

Turns out, he does know me because it’s not like I haven’t done that in the past - for holiday photos. But this is different - I wanted the engagement experience without the pressure of trying to take my own photos. The same happy ever after looking experience I have had the privilege to give other engaged couples. 

Besides, Pinterest told me that none of the shots I want can be self-timed.

Don’t get me wrong, I was not and am not looking for ‘cheap' – I believe that you get what you pay for and I don’t believe in settling for less even if I have to pay more. But at this point I was looking for "available within my now limited schedule" and with it being the holiday portrait season and the weather being a dick for no reason randomly, I missed out by taking so long.

So, I turned to my daughter and my little brother.

I can’t put into words how much it meant to me that when I asked, they didn’t hesitate to say yes. I don’t even care what these pictures look like, just that they’re the ones taking them will be awesome … even though I sent them both screenshots from my Pinterest board …

All. Of. Them. 

And with my brother being a better photographer than me and the simple fact that I trained my daughter over the years … there’s a lot of pressure to make these look magical.

Just kidding.

Honestly, this couldn’t be more perfect. I get to share an important day in my life with my family documenting it. My daughter who has only ever wanted me to be happy along with wanting every new Pokémon game ever for the past almost 22 years; and my baby brother who used to let me take him out every Sunday to a movie, McDonald’s and then to pick out comic books. 

And my parents won’t be left out – I have an idea to include them. And my dog.

At this point, we can describe me as possibly gearing up to be on a ‘hide her from my timeline already’ level of ‘extra.’

My fiancé is NOT ready for this.

And. I. Don’t. Care. 

Because I’m ENGAGED. 

Bitches. #engaged

S**t ... I'm probably not even ready for this ... 

(PS: Don't ask about the marriage date, we didn't get that far yet. Baby steps, it's number 3 for both of us.)

Watch Out 46! I’m Coming In Hot … One Flash at a Time …

Photo collage by Serdar Gulmez/Photographer/Greensboro, NC
Wonder Woman armor crafted by www.jasonevansfx.com

Just to clarify: by flash, I mean hot flash, not camera flash.

And while I'm on the subject of menopause, ladies ... it's not as bad as I'd been led to believe it would be. Yet, at the same time, it's no joke, either.

I've been in menopause since my early 40s. The first thing to go was my menstrual cycle and truly that was a celebration of freedom. Nothing else seemed to happen after that, so I fell into a false sense of security - until this year.

That's when my body decided it would just go ahead and release all the menopausal symptoms at one time.

And why the hell not?

Going into the last half of my 40s, it would only seem fitting to battle it all out at once. Hot flashes, night sweats, insomnia ... challenge accepted.

Just kidding. I opted for hormone therapy like a little bitch until it brought back my periods and so I quit HRT and am now coasting into 46 au naturale.

Did I mention I'm coming up on my 46th birthday?

Speaking of my birthday, this year’s Scorpio season saw me downgrade my birthday month to just a birthday weekend. It’s a lot of work to pretend to be excited about two things that aren’t really that exciting – my birthday and star sign – just for the sake of social media appearances. Realistically, I can probably keep it up for about a week on social media and by the time my birthday actually gets here, I’m over it.

My star sign is not a crown and my birthday is just another day.

Photo by my daughter. She said I look
bored, but this is my happy face. 

But each year, I write a celebratory birthday blog. Sometimes it’s early, sometimes late and sometimes – like this one - it skids into my birthday at the last minute like some of my daughter’s college papers. I mean, what’s the rush? I have until midnight after which I’m going to be 46 for a whole year. It was a little harder to write this year because I didn't do much other than work. But here I am …  with no direction and a lot of self-reflection.

You have been warned.

46 46 46 46 46 46 46 46 46 46 46 46 46 46

When I see or say the number, I feel like I should be in a panic because I’m that much closer to the big 5-0. I never believed that age is just a number. I've always said it’s more than that. It’s how long I’ve been on this earth, how much life I have experienced, and the knowledge and wisdom I may (or may not) have gained in that time.

So, I’m 46. It’s not “the new” anything. It’s just 46 - and that's okay. I don’t feel my age, but then, what does it actually mean to “feel” an age?

I’ve never "felt" my age. That’s a true story.

I’ve never “acted” my age either. Another true story - you can ask my parents.

Every year after 35, as I inched closer to 40, I would experience mild anxiety and panic at nearing an age I considered ‘old.’ Listening to everyone who made it there before I did, I expected my body to fall apart, my face to show excessive signs of wear and – being single at the time – turning into a spinster because no man would want to be with a woman past her prime and child-bearing years. 

Even men my own age, which was a hard pill to swallow when that started back in my mid-30s.

No, ladies, being a puma or a cougar is not something to celebrate or aspire to regardless of what porn, mainstream media and feminist social activists would like to push into relevant acceptability. 

The only guys interested in older women are older men looking for a placeholder and young men looking to punch their (sexual) experience card. I’ve had my fair share of dating younger men because men my age want women my daughter’s age (20s). I can tell you that it’s a lonely and depressing place to be when you realize there is nothing those boys can give you but a good time. And there is nothing you can give them but experience. 

Great for a good time, not for a long time.

And remember, posting self-affirmation memes and quotes online doesn't help the cause - it's just an attempt to prove viability by seeking validation from everyone else through likes and shares online.

My pride never let me do that. I'm not begging anyone to see me.

But, I digress.

So, while I have a few more wrinkles, one less tooth and dealt with a 5 years long intestinal infection from my career in crash fad diets and eating disorders that stemmed from a poor relationship with my body, I don’t feel old. As a matter of fact, I feel pretty damn good for being 46 years into my life. Which makes me wonder:

Why do we talk about the downsides of getting older like they are negative side-effects of prescription medication?

“Once you hit 46, you may experience menopause, intermittent constipation that may last weeks, popping joints, failing eye sight, gray hair, saggy body parts, unexpected weight gain, memory failure, sudden onset diet restrictions and allergies … if any of this lasts more than 4 years, you may wish to check into an assisted living facility now.”

But what about the benefits?

What no one tells you is that the older you get, the more you start to accept yourself – and I’m not just talking about the muffintop or thunder thighs. After wasting years of my life trying to be someone else’s idea of who I should be, I'm not afraid to be who I am, say what I mean and do what I want. It’s not a movement – because there is no social media hashtag that can inspire me to take stock of myself and learn to be okay with who I am without a filter. 

Being present, engaged and connecting with myself offline – accepting, facing and somewhat defeating my past  – not only changed the way I see myself, but also who and what I was attracting into my life. We’re all magnets and are constantly pulling the same energy we put out towards us.

Not a Zen moment, just a real moment.

Don’t get me wrong, I still have insecurities that stem from a less than positive body image and – as much as I try not to – past relationship experiences. I’d love to say that I never use those things to pick fights with my boyfriend but I’d be lying. I’m still a girl.

Basically, what I’m saying is that I am now way more secure in myself and my insecurities. I know my crazy and I'm honest about it. No apologies. 

And yes, I am still with the same boyfriend. It’s been almost four years and I’m sure he’s just as happy as I have been since the day we met, if not more. I never blog about him or our relationship, but it is so imperfectly perfect that I might start – he’s already been notified. 

Again,I digress.

So, before I sat down to write, I went back and read a few of my past blogs. Reading through my inner and outer journey - from chasing meaning in meaningless things and relationships to finding the real meaning in my so far, well-lived life - was kind of an emotional experience. 

It felt like I was reading the script treatment to a KDrama.

“It’s the story of a girl, raising a girl, being the girl that everyone wanted her to be for them until she finds the boy that just wants her to be the best girl she can be while raising her girl together in life with him.”

And of course, as in all KDramas, it’s filled with emotional roller coasters, highs, lows, calms and a happy ending (no pun or offense intended) after 50 episodes.

Unlike Chinese dramas that take you through 75 - 100 episodes and end on cliffhangers because they’re f*cking communists and don’t want anyone to be happy and have closure.

(Just kidding China, if you’re reading this.)

On further thought, it’s probably more accurate to say that my life up until now has been a series of cliffhangers – always ‘to be continued’ based on the consequential outcome of my own poor decisions. Admittedly, I know how things will turn out since I tend to make many of the same mistakes more than a few hundred times. But since I don’t make them consecutively, there’s always that brief moment of initial surprise before recognition sets in. 

Hey, at least I can admit my life is my fault. I feel like that’s being somewhat mature.

But even through all of that, I don't have many regrets.

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The ones I do have are because I chose to prioritize over my family. I missed time with my guy, my daughter, brothers and parents in favor of filling up my free time with more work. It sucked to miss my daughter’s prom and my niece’s graduation. I worked on my daughter's and parents' birthdays. Every second of free time I had, I gave away to everyone except my family and friends.

It wasn’t until recently that I made the abrupt decision to re-focus my life around my family. No, it wasn't some kind of spiritual awakening. I just had the epiphany that I didn't really like working 7-days a week and missing out on life.

So, I did something about it.

Because time is something I will never get back, the worst feeling to carry around is regret over wasting it on things that don't matter. I'm not getting any younger, so there really is no time to waste anymore.

Forty-six is going to be full of changes that will bring big things – according to my divination chart. As a Scorpio, I've entered the third and final transformation - the Phoenix. I mean, if I believed in all of that.

Still flying by the seat of my pants with no real plan. But I’m looking forward to seeing what I’ll be doing this year.