Posted in life, life experience, Self Improvement

Apparently, I’m Becoming a Person Who Moisturizes

Something is happening to me lately, and I’m not entirely sure when it started.

Apparently, I’m becoming a person who moisturizes.

Consistently.

I get my nails done every other week. I pay attention to what I eat. I move my body because I want it to feel good. I take walks without headphones. I sit in silence without immediately reaching for something to entertain me. I listen more carefully. I speak more deliberately. I’m even drinking more water, which feels unnecessarily mature.

None of these things individually are particularly groundbreaking. Women have been applying moisturizer since the beginning of time. I am not expecting a documentary.

But collectively, they feel like evidence of something.

I think I’m becoming more intentional about being me.

Not reinventing myself. Not entering my “new era.” Please, God, do not make me announce an era. I have enough going on.

It feels more like I’ve stopped constantly looking outside of myself for instructions.

For most of our lives, there’s always something we’re supposed to be working toward. We want to look a certain way, accomplish something, make someone proud, prove something, attract something, fix something, become something.

And lately I don’t feel like I’m chasing anything.

I’m just curious about what happens when I take really good care of the life I already have.

That includes my health, but it also includes my skin and my nails and my peace and my relationships and my thoughts. It’s less about fixing anything and more about finally paying attention to all the small ways I can take care of myself.

And somewhere in all of that, I think I’ve softened a little too. I listen more. I try to understand before I react. I have more empathy for what people may be carrying that I know nothing about. I still have a sense of humor, thank God, because I have no interest in becoming so evolved that I stop finding people ridiculous. But I do think I move through things with a little more thought than I used to.

That doesn’t mean I always stay quiet. If I do decide to speak and give my piece on something, as I very much did yesterday, LOL, rest assured, it has been thought through. Probably overthought, revisited, mentally argued from both sides, and given more internal review than most corporate policies. So by the time it actually comes out of my mouth, I mean it. The delivery may occasionally have a little extra seasoning, but the message has already passed quality control. That’s probably why I can say what I need to say and still go to bed without regret.

Even today, I noticed it in the smallest way. I went for a walk without headphones. Normally there would be music, a podcast, something playing in the background. Instead, I just walked.

I listened to the world around me. I thought. I noticed things. I started recording these thoughts into my phone so I could remember them later, which probably made anyone passing me assume I was either conducting important business or having a very detailed conversation with myself.

Technically, it was the second one.

But I liked being there.

I liked my own thoughts without needing to drown them out.

And maybe that’s what all of this is.

I’m not becoming someone new.

I’m becoming less distracted from myself.

Less concerned with being accepted. Less interested in adjusting myself to fit whatever room I’m standing in. Less willing to ignore the little things that make me feel better just because nobody else will notice them.

And at the same time, I’m paying more attention to my body, my mind, my reactions, my habits, my peace, and the way I move through the world.

There’s no big destination attached to any of it.

I don’t know what the end result is supposed to look like.

For once, I don’t think I need to.

I’m taking care of myself because I live here.

And I’m actually becoming pretty curious to see what happens when I treat that like it matters.

Posted in inner peace, life, life experience, Self Improvement

My People-Pleasing Subscription Expired 😂

They say the older you get, the more you lose your filter. I’m starting to think that’s bullshit.

I don’t think I’ve lost my filter at all. If anything, I think I’ve finally figured out that I don’t have to use it to protect everyone else from the discomfort they created.

When I think about myself when I was younger, there were so many times people said things to me that were just… out of pocket. Not necessarily blatantly cruel or some huge insult that would obviously warrant a response. It was usually more subtle than that. A comment that went a little too far, an opinion nobody asked for, something judgmental disguised as a joke, or something personal enough to make me think, Why would you even say that to me?

And for whatever reason, my response was usually to be polite.

Someone would make me uncomfortable and somehow I would immediately go into damage-control mode to make sure they didn’t feel uncomfortable about making me uncomfortable. I’d laugh, explain myself, change the subject, or sometimes even join in on the joke. Apparently younger me was running a full-service emotional concierge desk. You just said something completely unnecessary to me? No worries, let me make sure this isn’t awkward for you.

I don’t know if I wasn’t confrontational or if I just thought being a good person meant always being gracious. Maybe it was a little of both. But somewhere along the way, that changed.

Not in a “now I tell everybody to go f*ck themselves” kind of way, although admittedly, the option feels much more available at 45. 😂 It’s more that I finally realized I don’t owe someone a comfortable landing after they say something inappropriate to me.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older is that I don’t always have to respond. Silence used to make me uncomfortable because I felt like I needed to fill the space. Now I’m perfectly fine letting it sit there. If someone says something inappropriate and waits for me to laugh, I don’t have to laugh. If someone asks something I don’t feel like answering, I don’t have to answer. If someone takes a conversation somewhere I never invited it to go, I can redirect it, ignore it completely, or simply leave the conversation where it is.

It sounds incredibly simple, but it took me years to learn.

Here’s a perfect example. I’m doing 75 Hard right now, so I recently told someone I wasn’t drinking for the next 75 days. I was explaining the challenge, which involves two workouts a day, eating healthy, no alcohol, reading, all the things. Somehow, out of everything I said, the word “hard” was apparently enough inspiration for him to respond, “You had me at hard.” Then he followed it up with, “Sorry, I’m just horny.”

Sir. 😂

What exactly am I supposed to do with that information? Where do we go from here? Because we certainly weren’t headed there before.

And listen, despite how often this subject somehow finds its way into my blogs lately, I swear I am not a prude. Sexual conversations don’t offend me. Flirting doesn’t offend me. I enjoy both when there’s mutual chemistry and the door has actually been opened for that kind of conversation. But randomly announcing that you’re horny in the middle of a completely unrelated conversation when we haven’t established anything remotely close to that dynamic is just… strange. What would you like me to say? Congratulations? 😂

The younger version of me probably would have laughed or made some little joke back, not necessarily because I wanted the conversation to go there, but because I wouldn’t have wanted him to feel embarrassed. And when I really think about that, it’s crazy. Why was I always so concerned about making someone else comfortable after they were the one who made the conversation uncomfortable?

This time I didn’t lecture him, tell him he was inappropriate, or turn it into some big thing. I simply didn’t pick up what he put down. I redirected the conversation right back to fitness and asked if he was still working out like he used to. That was it. We were going back to where the conversation belonged, and I wasn’t going to participate in taking it anywhere else.

And maybe he’ll read this and realize I’m talking about him. If so… well. 😂

But this really isn’t about him. That conversation just made me realize how differently I handle these situations now, and it extends far beyond dating or men making sexual comments.

I remember when my kids were little and someone in my life would make comments comparing my parenting to theirs. They would question a decision I made or make some comment that implied the way they did something was somehow better. Instead of simply standing behind my choices, I would laugh it off and then start explaining myself. I’d justify why I made a certain decision or give all the reasons behind it, almost as if I needed them to agree with me before I could feel confident in something that was mine to decide in the first place.

Looking back now, I wonder why I ever felt like I needed to do that. They weren’t raising my children. I was. I didn’t owe anybody a PowerPoint presentation with supporting documentation explaining my parenting decisions.

I think that’s one of those things age teaches you. You start realizing how much of your life you’ve spent absorbing other people’s behavior and then carrying it around long after the interaction was over. You replayed something somebody said while they probably went home and slept perfectly fine. You wondered if you were being too sensitive. You explained yourself to people who weren’t entitled to an explanation. You laughed at things you didn’t find funny and stayed in conversations you wanted to leave because somehow calling out the discomfort felt ruder than the person creating it.

Eventually, you realize how exhausting that is.

Maybe that’s what people mistake for losing your filter as you get older. Maybe we don’t lose it at all. Maybe we just stop filtering ourselves for everybody else’s benefit.

I still believe in being kind, and I still believe not everything deserves a reaction. I don’t think every uncomfortable comment requires a confrontation, and I certainly don’t believe in matching someone’s disrespect just because they gave it to me first. I’m not interested in an eye-for-an-eye way of living, and I don’t need to win every interaction.

I’ve just become much more selective about what deserves my energy.

If someone I love says something that hurts me, I’ll have the conversation because the relationship matters to me. If there’s something worth repairing, I’ll communicate. But not everyone gets that kind of access to me anymore. Sometimes I’ll call something out, sometimes I’ll redirect the conversation, and sometimes I’ll simply leave it exactly where it is.

And sometimes I’ll let the silence sit there long enough for you to hear what you just said.

Because your discomfort with my silence is no longer more important to me than my discomfort with your words.

So maybe age does make us less tolerant, but I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. I think you just reach a point where you realize how much time you’ve wasted worrying about things other people said, did, thought, or felt, and how often you sacrificed your own comfort to protect theirs.

Maybe wisdom isn’t becoming louder or more confrontational. Maybe it’s simply knowing when something deserves your response and when it doesn’t.

I haven’t lost my filter.

I’ve just finally learned that I don’t have to make myself uncomfortable just to make someone else comfortable.

Posted in life, life experience, Uncategorized

My Standards Didn’t Get Higher. My Discernment Got Better.

There was a time when I thought having standards meant I was being too picky.

Now I think having standards simply means you’ve paid attention.

The other day I was looking at a list I keep in my phone. It’s a list of the things I know I want in a partner and the things I know I no longer want to compromise on. As I read through it, something hit me.

That list isn’t really about a man.

It’s about me.

It’s about the woman I’ve become, the life I’ve built, and the lessons I had to learn to get here.

Every line on that list has a story behind it. Every single one.

Not because someone hurt me or because I’ve become bitter, but because life has a funny way of teaching you what actually matters.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that people come into our lives for all kinds of reasons. Some stay, some leave, and some simply leave us with a lesson. When I look back, I don’t see wasted time. I see clarity. Every experience has taught me a little more about myself, about relationships, and about the kind of life I want to build.

For the longest time, I thought love meant making things work. If there was chemistry, I believed the rest would fall into place. If our lives looked different, I figured we’d eventually meet somewhere in the middle. Looking back, I realize I spent a lot of time focusing on what could be instead of paying attention to what already was.

Today, I still believe people can grow.

I hope I never stop growing myself.

I believe the right relationship should inspire both people to become better versions of themselves. We all have room to improve. We all have things we can learn from each other. Maybe someone learns to communicate better. Maybe they become more intentional. Maybe they discover a love for traveling because they finally have someone they want to experience life with. Maybe their faith deepens because they’re walking alongside someone who encourages it.

Growth is a beautiful thing.

But over time, I’ve also learned there’s a difference between growth and compatibility.

There’s a difference between habits and values.

Between learning something new and changing who you are at your core.

I can’t expect someone to suddenly value family if they’ve never believed family was important.

I can’t expect someone to become ambitious if they’re comfortable staying exactly where they are.

I can’t expect someone to wake up one day and enjoy making memories, celebrating birthdays, gathering for holidays, or spending quality time together if those things have never mattered to them.

Could they?

Maybe.

But I’ve learned not to build my future around “maybe.”

That’s probably the biggest lesson I’ve learned.

I don’t want to fall in love with someone’s potential while ignoring the person standing in front of me.

I want to appreciate people for exactly who they are, and if who they are naturally aligns with the life I’m building, that’s something worth exploring.

If it doesn’t, that’s okay too.

Not every good person is my person.

I’ve also realized I don’t want to rescue anyone anymore. I’ve always been someone who encourages people. I love cheering others on, believing in them, and reminding them of what they’re capable of. That’s part of who I am, and I hope it always is.

But I’ve learned that encouragement and responsibility are two different things.

It’s not my job to carry someone until they’re ready for the life they say they want.

I want a partner, not a project.

I’ve become much more aware of reciprocity too. Not because I keep score, but because effort reveals intention. If I’m always the one making the plans, getting in my car, rearranging my schedule, or wondering when I’ll hear from someone again, eventually I have to ask myself whether we’re building a relationship together or if I’m simply trying to fit into someone else’s life.

That’s not the kind of love I want.

I’ve worked hard to build a life that brings me peace. I’ve worked hard in my career. I’ve spent years raising my children, and now they’re adults. For the first time in a long time, I’m in a season where life has a little more freedom. I can enjoy a spontaneous weekend away, dinner on a Friday night, a day on the boat, or simply sitting outside with family talking for hours.

I’ve earned this season of my life.

I want someone who’s excited to enjoy it with me.

Someone who values experiences over excuses.

Someone who enjoys family, takes care of himself, has passions of his own, and has built a life he’s proud of, not because I need him to have those things, but because I’ve realized how beautiful it is when two people are already walking in the same direction.

If you had asked me years ago what I wanted in a partner, my answer would’ve been much shorter.

Today it’s longer, not because I’ve become more demanding, but because I’ve become more aware.

Aware of what gives me peace.

Aware of what quietly takes it away.

Aware of the difference between chemistry and compatibility.

Aware that some things can absolutely grow, while others are simply part of who we are.

Maybe that’s the greatest gift time has given me.

It didn’t make me cynical.

It made me discerning.

I still believe in love.

I still believe in romance.

I still believe the right person will challenge me, help me grow, and bring out even better parts of me that I haven’t discovered yet.

But I also believe the foundation has to be there first.

Shared values.

Shared respect.

Shared effort.

A shared vision for the kind of life we both want to build.

Everything else, we can grow together.

And maybe that’s what the list in my phone has been trying to remind me all along.

It was never a list of impossible expectations.

It was simply a reflection of the life I’ve built, the woman I’ve become, and the kind of partnership that would allow us both to keep growing, side by side.

Posted in inner peace, inspiration, life, life experience, Uncategorized

I Stopped Carrying Everything

There’s been a shift in me lately.

My mind is quieter.

Not because life suddenly got easier. It didn’t. I still have problems, deadlines, responsibilities, and moments that test me. But somewhere along the way, I stopped believing that every thought deserved my attention.

I let thoughts come, and I let them go.

I think that’s one of the gifts of getting older, if you’re willing to learn from what life has been trying to teach you all along. You start realizing that forcing things rarely brings peace. Controlling every outcome is exhausting. And sometimes the greatest act of faith is simply letting go.

Every morning on my drive to work, I pray the Rosary.

I’m Catholic, and for me it isn’t about asking for things. It’s become my time for peace. It’s my way of grounding myself before the day begins. It reminds me that I’m not carrying everything alone. It helps me surrender the things that were never mine to control in the first place.

It has become my daily reset.

I used to spend so much time replaying conversations, worrying about outcomes, trying to solve every problem before it even existed. If something went wrong, I’d carry it with me all day.

Now, when a problem comes, I acknowledge it. I absorb it. If there’s a solution, I find it. If there isn’t, I accept that too.

Because I’ve learned that not every problem has an immediate answer.

Not every situation is mine to fix.

And not every burden belongs on my shoulders.

That realization has changed me.

I’ve also learned to enjoy my own company.

For a long time, I expected other people to make me feel important, chosen, or prioritized. Then one day I realized something that was hard to admit:

I wasn’t prioritizing myself.

Why was I expecting someone else to do what I wasn’t willing to do for myself?

That was a turning point.

Now I choose the things that bring me peace. I still work out, but not because I’m chasing a certain body anymore. I do it because it clears my mind. If my body needs sleep instead of a 5 a.m. workout, I sleep. The gym will still be there that evening.

I’ve stopped living by rigid rules that I created for myself.

Ironically, the less I’ve tried to control every detail, the more peaceful I’ve become.

Someone once said that expectations are the thief of joy.

I think there’s a lot of truth in that.

So much of my anxiety came from believing life had to unfold a certain way. That people had to respond a certain way. That relationships had to look a certain way. That plans had to happen on my timeline.

But that’s not my job.

My job is to show up. To do my best. To love well. To have faith. To solve what I can, release what I can’t, and trust that what’s meant for me doesn’t require me to force it.

I’m learning to exhale more.

To trust more.

To enjoy the life that’s happening instead of constantly trying to rearrange it.

And somewhere in all of that…

I found peace.

Posted in life, life experience

Somewhere Between Hope and Expectation

Every day I find myself less and less trying to manipulate outcomes. I guess I needed to finally get here. It’s funny because for the longest time I thought this lesson was mostly about relationships. Learning not to force things, not to chase answers, and not to try to control how people show up in my life. The more I think about it though, the more I realize it has very little to do with relationships and a lot to do with life in general.

What I’ve noticed is that just when I think I’ve finally learned how to let go, life shows me another area where I’m still holding on.

And usually it’s somewhere I wasn’t expecting.

Lately, that has looked like me questioning the difference between hope and expectation. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t hope for things because hope can create expectations, and expectations often lead to disappointment. The other part of me thinks that without hope, what are we really looking forward to? Hope is what gets us excited about the future. It’s what helps us believe there are good things ahead even when we can’t see them yet.

I recently went on a trip and had an entire idea in my head about how the weekend would go. I wasn’t trying to manipulate anything or control anyone. I wasn’t sitting there with an agenda. I was simply hopeful. The reality, however, was different. There were competing attitudes, different personalities, tension at times, and moments that were honestly more stressful than I expected. Looking back, I can genuinely say I had a good time. There were great memories made, plenty of laughs, and moments I enjoyed.

Yet somehow the stressful moments seem to stand out more than they should.

As I’ve reflected on it, I’ve found myself wondering if the disappointment came from the trip itself or from the fact that it didn’t match the version I had already created in my head. I don’t really know the answer. What I do know is that this isn’t just about a vacation. There are a lot of areas in my life right now where I don’t know what’s next. There are things I’m praying about, things I’m hopeful for, and things I’d genuinely like to see happen.

The uncertainty can be uncomfortable.

Especially for someone who spent a lot of years trying to stay one step ahead of disappointment.

Maybe the lesson isn’t to stop hoping. Maybe the lesson is learning how to hope without becoming attached to a specific outcome. Maybe it’s okay to want things, pray for things, and look forward to things while still accepting that life may unfold differently than we imagined. I’m starting to think there is a difference between saying, “This is what I would love to happen,” and saying, “This is what has to happen for me to be okay.”

That’s the part I’m still learning.

I don’t have some profound answer or life-changing conclusion. If I’m being honest, I’m still trying to figure it out. What I do know is that life seems to keep asking me to loosen my grip a little more than I’m comfortable with. Maybe that’s what trust actually is. Not giving up on hope, but letting go of the need to control how the story unfolds.

Maybe peace isn’t found in knowing what’s coming next.

Maybe peace is trusting that whatever comes next, you’ll be okay.