Crossing the street

the weirest thing happened yesterday.

I was heading to a late yoga class and I’m standing waiting to cross and my brain snapped….. Your 40, standing here on the street, 40, not a young girl. I stopped it…. Fought back that voice with the thought of …. Yeah that’s right, 40 and still doing most of the things I love. 

Not 40 and near dead as my mother was. Not 40 and on the verge of a breakdown like my aunt, or worse, 40 and in mental institution like my other aunt.

As I crossed the street, I was a proud 40.

I know I still have many things to work on and a conversation I had with Sir about my legs has me feeling a little down.

Whatever…. I’m at work and I have more than enough meeting to keep my mind busy.

One thought on “Crossing the street”

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