How the hell are ya on this fine Monday? If you ain’t feeling the title, you should definitely unclutch those pearls honey. Buckle up, it’s a wild ride out here.
Now, I ain’t out here showing my dick (bwahahahaha, not my girl dick and not his dick either) but you might see some ass and titties. What the hell, girl?!?! Look. I didn’t make it all the way to 50 years old to be uptight. I made it this far to cut the fuck loose. I’m not quite to ‘old Black lady’ status yet, but I might as well start getting in some practice. Yeah I looked dead at you and rolled my eyes. What you gonna do about it?
I’ve decided that #SoftGirlSolstice can include some pilates for stretching and strengthening. I’m trying to make my body feel better at 50 than it did at 25. Realistically speaking, that shouldn’t be that hard since at 25 I was NOT taking care of myself very well. Exercise and balanced meals? More like running around like a maniac fueled on French bread, Chaumes, and liquor. Hydration? Does beer count? My gawd I don’t know how I survived. If you’re reading this at 25, please take better care of yourself, lol.
The self-care situation looks like this: lengthen, strengthen, somatic exercises, vibration plate, sauna bag, inversion table, hydrate, electrolytes, supplements for days, and an X39 patch. They’ve been added at various stages through the time I’ve been trying to fix myself. Compared to how I felt a year ago, I know that I feel about 100 times better today. Could I point to one thing to say that ‘this’ is the thing that works and I could drop all the others? Hell no. That’s ok though. As long as something is working and I can sleep through the night without my hips screaming, I’m doing good. If I think about where I was just 6 months ago, there’s a world of difference. Long story short, take care of yourself.
So with all of this fixing comes the ability to move better, to flow better, and to be fucking raunchy. Because you know what? The tin man ain’t fun to watch dancing. I keep greasing the grooves though and we’re smoothing things out. And know what’s dangerous? I’m starting to watch what I’ve done and think that it looks good. You guys haven’t yet met the me that has self-confidence. The me that has a hype man. The me that says fuck what ya heard, here I fucking am. But that’s who you’re getting from here on out. I’m tired of being small. I’m tired of being timid. I’m stepping right the fuck into my badassery. Deal with it. You can always unfollow/mute/whatever me and I don’t need to know about it. Just see your way out.
Yep, that’s how we’re rolling out this Monday. Fix your face, pull up your panties, slip into those shitkicking boots, and let’s fucking go. I got this. You got this. We got this. Our time is now. We are him/her.