I Looked Back

The old cliche says to never look back. Or is it, never look down? Whatever. Either way, I did it.

I'm glad I did though. But there's a small part of me that wishes I'd resorted to my old habits of immersing myself in the Rivers of Denial, and allowing it to wrap me in its caressing waves of "it doesn't apply to me" and "I'll worry about that tomorrow" and "it's not really that important, is it?"

I'm going to be 40 in November.

For once, I'm not having major panic attacks at the impending approach of my birthday, or plotting ways to avoid contact with my family and friends, or people in general for that matter, on that "dreaded" day.

Instead, I'm okay with growing another year older. Really. I'm even planning a kick-ass party with a band. My cousin, who is more like the sister I never had and always yearned for, turns 30 in October. So, we're celebrating together. I'm so blessed to have her, and she will never know the amount of sunshine she brings to my life.

But, with each of the "hills" that I'm cresting, inevitability, comes that reflection everyone has in their life, at one point or another.

In my past 40 years... I've tested boundaries, and set the limits; I've been the student, and the teacher; I've been the tears, and the tissue; I've loved hard, and lost so very much; I've said "I do," and then, "I don't," twice.

I've given life to 3 incredible children, eternally grateful for every blessed-second with them, and I've suffered the loss of 3 lives I'll never know and will forever mourn; I've been Mommy, and an egg donor; I've been my parents, and my children; I've been responsible, and very, very stupid.

I've been a part of my family, and a skeleton in the closet; I've been a sister, a daughter, a niece, a cousin, and the one who's whispered to be "blood related;" I've been the protector, and the harm; I've been the truth, and the lie; I've been the reality, and the beautiful, unforgettable fantasy.

I've tasted success, and swallowed the dirt of defeat; I've been a friend, and the dickhead asshole; I've laughed loud, and I've cried hard; I've been desperately sorry, and I have blatantly accused; I've been right and, oh, so very wrong.

I've been a victim, and the proud survivor; I've given until I bled, and taken until my head hung in shame; I've been sorry, and extremely angry; I've been the bulldozer, and a doormat; I've been in Left-field, and the "catcher" in the Right.

I've been everything in my first 40 years. But I've never been me.

Maybe, it's time....