I'm reached a milestone, 50 years old. I'm officially old enough for an AARP discount and to consider myself middle-aged. I believe I can now be a cougar. People are often shocked and amazed when I tell them how old I am and I'm both flattered and confused. I mean, what should 50 look like exactly. I've gained a few extra pounds (that I call Covid weight), have dark circles to cover, walk a little slower and need glasses to read small print. Not sure if these things are age-related but they feel that way to me. But I recently had an epiphany - I don't look like what I've been through.
The bruises formed by the lies told on me are not visible. The scars left from misjudgment and pigeon-holing are under the skin. You can't see the wounds from the stabs in the back or the gouges in my heart where my love and trust were taken and not returned. The kicks and scrapes and stings and slaps of life haven't killed my joy and that oozes to the surface from deep inside.
I have reached this milestone in tears - reflecting on where I have been, what I have done, what I have been through, what I still wish to attain, where I want to go and what I wish to still experience. There are those who I carry with me in my spirit, some who will be with me on my journey and some who will be left behind.
This is my year of Jubilee - my year of recovery and restoration.
