At some point in our lives, we all feel a sense of questioning. What am I doing? Am I on the right track? Where did these freaking wrinkles come from? For me and so many other women, that happens at some point in one’s late thirties and early forties (and again in one’s fifties). It can feel quite funky—and not in an awesome James Brown kind of way.
W H A T T H E F U N K ?
It began for me on my 39th birthday. I woke up feeling like a stranger in my own body. Choices and preferences that fit for me five years ago, now felt like putting shoes on the wrong feet or my jeans on backwards.
And, for the first time, I felt life whizzing by me. I was panicked thinking about how little time we have on this Earth to make our dreams come true. While I’ve kept myself occupied with business, busyness and B.S. excuses, my hopes and dreams have been tossed aside like crappy samples from the makeup counter.