The Question

What am I doing?

I know what I should have done. I know what I need to do. Yet, I have no idea what I'm doing. At 40, I should know what I'm doing. 

I have friends that are literally running the world. Starting businesses. Making BIG money. And none of them seem quite as lost as me. They seem to be adults. I am not an adult. Not fully. I'd say I'm about 12. Which is crazy, because my body is about 114. 

This has been a question for me for a long time which means I have never answered it to my own satisfaction. This is because I honestly don't know. 

Oh well. Maybe the answer will come to me today. Most likely not though. That I know. 

Doesn't It Feel Good To Pay Less?

I had an amazing, silly dream the other night. 

I had a dream that I was walking through an outdoor mall and came across a Payless shoe store. I couldn't believe it! I walked through the door to find a huge, clean, fully-stocked Payless that looked a lot like the Payless that used to be near my house. 

"Hello, ma'am! Are you okay?" the clerk asked from behind the counter. I was literally standing in the middle of the floor with my mouth open wide and my arms extended. 

"I can't believe it," I said, elated. "All the Payless stores closed where I am from!" I cried. 

The clerk smiled. "Oh wow! Well, we are still open."

I was overwhelmed by joy! Immediately, I ran over to the aisle that had my shoe size. I literally grabbed as many pairs of shoes that I could carry, then dumped them at the checkout counter. At this point, there were other people in the store staring at me. Once I was done finding shoes for myself, I went to the children's section and tried to remember what sizes my niece and nephew wore. Then I grabbed all of those shoes and dumped them at the register. Just as I was about to pay, a deliveryman walked in and began to hang purses around the store. The moment he was done, I grabbed as many of those as I could and dumped them on the counter. The other customers in the store were growing visibly impatient. 

"I want all of this!" I exclaimed. 

I woke up, heart pounding, looking around my bed for my new Payless purchases which, of course, were not there. 

Then, just today, I had a dream during a nap that I was at a Disney park with my family. We were all hanging out in our hotel room when I got a call from Kinfolk. He wanted to let me know that he was at the same Disney park and wanted to meet me. He gave me his address, which I don't remember which sucks, because I heard that when you see numbers in your dreams, you should play them as lottery numbers. 

Anywho, my nephew and I got on a trolley to go meet Kinfolk in the town square. Everyone was so happy around us. We went and ordered food, and Kinfolk and my nephew went to a buffet line. I got annoyed with my nephew because he brought back a literal basket of shrimp pasta. After we ate, we walked around and window shopped for a while when I saw it to the left of me: a brand new Payless. There were huge glass windows and it was way more fancy than any Payless I ever saw. I ran towards it, but woke up before I could go inside. 

I am not sure what all of this means. I am hoping that it means that Payless is coming back with flagship stores. I would be the first one in line! 

Eyelift

When I was a teenager, I had a habit of being very, VERY, convicted about issues that I was not educated enough or old enough to understand. One of the issues was plastic surgery. If we are made in God's image, getting plastic surgery (unless you underwent a severe facial trauma) was like telling God that he is ugly! I decided long ago I would never have any type of plastic surgery done. Fast forward to today. If my looks fall off, I want every plastic surgeon in Atlanta to tap dance on my face! Plastic surgery would not be ideal, but I have been thinking about it a lot since I think that I need an eyelift. 

I have always had straight, poofy eyelids. This is something called monolid (which I just found out now as I am writing this post). Essentially, I do not have the crease that separates my eyelid into two parts. For those of you who can't envision this, I do not have that part of my eyelid where women usually put on eye shadow. I guess I do, but it is very, very thin. Many Asian people have this type of eyelid, hence why people have asked me if I am partially Asian my whole life! 

The other day, I looked in the mirror and felt like my lids were looking a little more poof than usual. I had spent the weekend babysitting and did not have restful sleep. However, when they were still poofy the next day, I became fearful. Since I don't have a substantial eye crease, what if my eyes eventually poof shut and I have to keep my lids open with my hands?

As silly as this sounded, I became obsessed with my eyes. Is it possible to become a super poof and not be able to see? I really began to panic! And then a word came to mind that calmed my nerves: eyelift. Yes, an eyelift! A simple, medical miracle! And I don't mean putting some lotion on my lids that should lift them in a year or two, I mean good old-fashioned scalpel magic! And if I don't have the money for it, I will use invisible tape to lift my lids as close to my hairline as possible. 

Wheeeeew! Crisis averted. 

Equally Backed

You know, the new term for a fat person is a "big-back". How offensive is that? Recently, I saw an Instagram reel where a plus-size influencer was talking about how dating is much harder for big-backed women because being a big-back shows that you don't care about yourself, so men don't have to really care about you in a relationship. Disrespect is to be expected. This theory has been run across me by friends and foes alike over the years, and after my experiences trying to date by using a dating app for plus-size people ( I will share more about that later), I can say that this theory is true. Life has also shown me as much. 

However, as I am now officially middle-aged, as are many of my single friends, many of the tiny-backed women in my life are sharing their experiences with men that sound like they are of the big-backed variety. I mean, one can say that a man is going to treat you however he is going to treat you, regardless of your "back", but as a young woman, I saw the noticeable difference. I remember this one incident in high school where I got off the bus with my tiny-backed buddy Teri. Our mutual friend Bryan held the door open for her to walk into the school and then let it slam in my face. Of course, there was my friend 💋in college who was tiny-backed and gorgeous. I personally witnessed men cross both crowded rooms and oncoming traffic to get to her, while guys actively worked hard to ignore me. This was no easy task, seeing that I am almost six feet and weigh A LOT. 

Like I said, I have seen men treat thinner women better. That it what it is. Yet, at 40, it seems like having a tiny back is no longer shielding women, many of whom would be considered "high value women" from the big-back treatment. Now they are on podcasts and writing thought pieces like this is some new thing. It's enough to wonder where this shift is coming from. Could it be that being single past a certain age, especially after your 30s, is making thin women and plus-size women "equally- backed"? If so, I feel sorry for thin, middle-aged women. It can't be easy going from diamonds to doo-doo. 

I hate to admit this, but I have been listening to some of those brotard podcasters. Not their whole shows, just the clips that come across my social media feeds. They are just oozing with anger and sexism, and I seriously wonder of many of these men actually like women. During their tirades, I notice that they put this huge value on being single and young and make single older women sound like scum-of-the-earth sad sacks. I'm sure you are familiar with the cat lady comments that were prevalent earlier this year. To them, the only place for an older woman with any kind of baggage is next to the garbage bins. 

Yes, I think ageism has finally made thin and plus-size women equally-backed. This sucks, because while many older women see wisdom in age, many men just see an okay body with a tombstone as a head. It also sucks because at a time when women should be relaxing and enjoying life, they are put in yet another situation where they have to compete against each other. But we aren't in our 20s anymore. Many of us are choosing to forgo the dating Olympics, especially since the trophy is a gross guy that thinks you should think he is the prize because you are older. So many women are opting out of that game, and I couldn't be prouder of them. Yet, slim, trim, or otherwise, women of all sizes yearn for someone to love no matter what the climate is. So, I also stand with those love-lookers who are willing to stay in the race. You go girl! Go full in, I've got your back. 

The New Cat Lady

Me and my friend guy had an ugly text exchange recently, which left me with a strong desire to get a cat. I found a lovely 17-year-old beauty on a cat rescue site, but my aunty doesn't want a cat in the house. So now I'm not sure what to do since finding a romantic partner that doesn't make me cry seems to be out of the question for my life. According to Pix, cats are out of style anyway. 

"Cat ladies are not cat ladies anymore," he explained. "Those women who only watch true crime shows are the new cat ladies. If you meet a girl who only talks about that show Snapped or the stuff she has seen on I.D. Discovery, you are in trouble."

P thought that this was hilarious. Apparently, all the bitter women at his job gang up together and talk about the latest serial killer slasher show they are binge-watching. 

Now that this new definition of a cat lady is in play, I am realizing I have been one for at least the last 5 years. There isn't one streamed missing persons/ the boyfriend did it/ the husband is suspicious docuseries that I haven't watched. For some reason, there is something so addictive about these shows! The only thing that would make watching them better would be watching them with my new cat in my lap. 

Stages

Long ago, I was invited to Colorado to review a winter resort. A family was staying there that I became friendly with, particularly the mother. She asked me how old I was, and at the time, I was 25. She was in her 50s. She said, "You are in that stage of life where you go on Facebook and see that all your friends are getting married. I am at that stage of life where I go on Facebook and see that everyone's parents are dying."

I have thought about that statement over the years, primarily because these stages seemed so extreme. I figured that there has to be a middle stage, and there is. At 40, I am at that stage of life where messed-up, scary stuff begins to happen to you to show you that you are no longer young, and it's not fun. 

Recently, a college friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer. Over the years, breast cancer has been diagnosed younger and younger in women. I had a mentor in her 70s that told me that when she started out as a nurse, it was rare to treat a woman under 60 with breast cancer. Now my friend, whom I remember partying with and watching her cross her sorority, is now posting about her doctor's visits and their mental toll. 

I have friends who are navigating separations and divorces. Friends that are dealing with high-risk pregnancies because they are now considered "geriatric". Friends who have seriously injured themselves doing something basic, like bending over or turning their head. It's also supplement time. Don't be surprised if you go to hang out with your girls and the conversation goes rogue, and you all start talking about what vitamins you are taking for heart health and to strengthen your pelvic floor. 

A woman recently went viral for pretty much having a live panic attack because she just turned 40 and felt like she had done nothing with her life and time is running out. This comes with it to, this feeling of feeling like you have not accomplished enough. Even accomplished folks can feel this way, and it's a very haunting and panicked feeling. You start to get antsy, searching for a way to at least have some small success. It's a lot of pressure. 

Earlier this weekend, I had a Clearly Canadian water. Do you remember those flavored waters from the 90s? They are back, and it was amazingly refreshing. The last time I'd had one of these drinks, I was at the stage in my life where my biggest concern was getting my homework done so that I could watch music videos for the rest of the day. Now, when I hear songs on the radio, I don't know who half of the artists are! 

I can be negative and anxious, so for my own mental health, I am trying to brainwash myself into believing that this is the stage that great, beautiful things are going to happen to everyone I know...just a little later than expected. This stage of life can be scary, but I just know that there is some sunshine coming around that bend, and I put that on my fish oil and glucosamine. 

Falling During The Fallout

A long time ago, I read this article about a doctoral student who had the opportunity to provide therapy to migrant women from another country who were granted entry into the United States after living for God knows how long in a refugee camp. She was stoked and eager to provide the women with tools to deal with what she was sure would be intense feelings of loss, hopelessness, fear, and even outright anger and exhaustion. To her surprise, all a lot of the women wanted to talk about were their boyfriends in the camp and the dramas they were dealing with. These women had been forced from their homes and saw incredible violence and hunger, but they wanted to know what she thought about their guys breaking up with them or moving to another country outside of the US. What did she think about long-distance relationships? In her opinion, did they have a chance of working? Needless to say, she was not prepared for the women needing this type of support. 

I thought about this the other day when I was talking to my new friend Pix. I met him online, we aren't compatible, and we are becoming friends. He called me excited to let me know that he has essentially met his dream girl. Their values align, she is super nice, and their conversation is smooth like butter. They are going out on a date, and he is super ecstatic. 

One of my college homeboys is stuck between two women. They are both cool and pretty, but they both speak to different sides of his personality. In all honesty, he does like one a little more than the other, but the one he likes the most isn't the best candidate for marriage which, in middle age, he has finally decided to get serious about. 

Then there is me. I had a guy that I was interested in for a second there, but after a hurtful text message exchange, I'm pretty sure we are through. P has warned me that when things like this happen, guys vanish for a while and come back later when they figure you have forgotten about what happened. So, he may circle the block, but I don't think that I can forget some of the stuff he said in those messages, especially since they are still in my phone and seared on my brain. I find myself thinking a lot about him and the general probability that I will never find anyone. 

All this is happening while the sky is falling outside. So much is going on that it is hard to keep up with the news. One minute, people are talking about what to do if their healthcare is cut. Another minute, people are posting on Instagram about what to pack in your nuclear fallout backpack. There is an old saying that love conquers all. When we should be trying to figure out what to do as the world ends, we are editing our dating profiles and trying to figure out the quickest less painful way to become partnered. So yeah, love may conquer all, but what I am learning is what that doctoral student learned when helping the refugee women: love supercedes all when it comes to importance. Right now, I should be doing countless things to ensure me and my family's survival, but I am sitting here thinking about going back on a dating app. Maybe I will refresh my profile; make myself sound funner 😒, and post some new pictures where it doesn't look like I have six chins. It seems like love and its pursuit are the default setting, even in extremes. Because, as you hustle through the theoretical refugee camp that is life or prepare for global annihilation, you want someone who thinks you are cute next to you holding your hand.