Swearing? Me? Never.
There was a time that was true, but alas. As I get older, I care a little less about a great many things that used to feel exceedingly important. It’s not like I’m a Very Sweary Person. I’m not. But if a situation requires a little Biblical intensifier, I’m glad to add one to my sentence.
So to put it in a positive light, I’m better at swearing than I used to be. And when it comes down to it, I’m also better at saying no.
I don’t think this is specific to me. I think it’s one of those things that We (the royal “we” meaning human women) get better at as we age. I am a person deeply rooted in the need to be useful, and saying Yes to all the things has given me use. Lots of it. For many decades.
But there is something so freeing about saying no.
It leads to beautiful things. Walking (for exercise) alone, listening to birds or my thoughts or a podcast or a book. Staying home instead of going out. Limiting my engagements to the ones that fuel my soul. Stuff like that.
I definitely say yes to lots of things still—I do social and extended-family and bookish and church-y and work things because I know I should. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
But man, it feels great to say no. And sometimes, Hell no.
*contented sigh*