This is 46.

This is 46

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46 is when my youngest turns 18 and I realize I’ve done this Mom thing for 27 years (yeah, I know it’s not over, but it’s different).

46 is graduating from graduate school.

46 is can’t cover the gray quick enough, stubborn chin hairs, perimenopause and deteriorating eyesight.

46 is realizing how much I’ve grown and how I still have some growing up to do.

46 is knocking at 50’s door and realizing there’s no going back (as if there ever was).

46 is fearing there’s not enough time to fulfill the rest of my desires, wondering if I wasted too many moments being scared and hesitant.

46 is doing it anyway.

46 is getting serious about matters like health and breaking bad habits, and getting less serious about who I offend.

46 might be the beginning of some of the best years of my life.

46 might be where I stress less and live, laugh and love more.

46 might be where I hide less and seen more.

46 might be stepping into a greater purpose, becoming that purpose and making a difference.

46 might be the emergence of all the fruits of my 46 years of internal and external labor.

46 is knowing what might be is only and all up to me.

Happy Birthday to Me.

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