Sober. Jobless. Single Mother of 2 Cats. Thriving. Obviously.
Let me paint you a picture of my current life situation.
I wake up. Two creatures are staring at me with the energy of tiny furry debt collectors. I have no job to rush to, which sounds like freedom until you realise it also means no reason to get up before they decide it is breakfast time, which is apparently 5:47am.
I am sober. Which is great for my health and terrible for my social life, which was already not great, which is fine because I cut most of it off anyway.
I am rebuilding my entire life from scratch at an age when most people are consolidating. I am doing this alone, with two cats, in a flat that I like very much now that I removed all the things and people that were making it feel small.
By most conventional metrics this looks like a disaster.
By my metrics, which I am still figuring out, this is the most honest my life has ever been.
Here is the thing nobody tells you about hitting the floor. The floor is actually quite useful. There is nowhere left to perform. Nothing left to pretend. No version of fine left to maintain. Just you, your actual thoughts, two cats who do not care about your job title, and the very confronting question of what you actually want.
I did not have an answer immediately. I still do not have a complete one. But for the first time in about twenty years I am asking the right question instead of avoiding it by being very busy and very useful and very good at a life that was not mine.
Sober. Jobless. Single mother of 2 cats.
Also: clearer, calmer, more myself than I have ever been, and genuinely looking forward to Tuesday for the first time in years.
Dancing starts Tuesday. Do not ask.
What does your "disaster" look like from the outside? And what does it actually feel like from the inside?
rise · believe · fly 🪶
From the Ashes She is for the woman in the middle of it. Not after. If this found you today, you are exactly where you are supposed to be.