There’s a particular kind of whiplash that can come with entering your 30s. It is looking around at your actual life then quickly realizing it does not quite match the highlight reel you may have started building in your head or Pinterest saves in your early 20’s.
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For all the praise women get for being strong, nobody talks openly about what that strength quietly costs. Folk’s love calling women “independent,” as if it is always some badge of honor, but baby, they do not say much about how lonely it can feel. I am talking about when you have become so used to carrying yourself that softness starts to feel like a luxury.
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Let me tell you, ‘Sha! There comes a moment that rolls in harder than a Louisiana summer thunderstorm. Also, it does not tiptoe in. What does it do? It storms through the front door. You look at your world. Your babies. Your fustrations.
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Hey, Sha. Let's sit back and talk, 'cause there's somethin' I just gotta share with ya’, somethin' that’s changed my whole peace of mind. I wanted to touch on how I do not argue anymore. Now, do not be thinkin' I am under someone’s control or a cat got my tongue or anything. Lord knows I still have plenty to say. I am not a weak or scared chick, bless your heart. Nah, the truth is, that it took me some time, but I have learned a valuable lesson about what arguing really is. It is for folks who still think if they just explain it one more time, they will somehow be understood.
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