My life has felt stuck, I felt out-of-balance, like I couldn’t see my own path and destiny anymore. The road was cloudy and I was traveling the same dead end roads time and time again. I felt in my bones that I’ve been living my mother’s life… drifting from place-to-place, never being financially free, and yearning and searching for something you cannot see, only dream. The life of a dreamer, a wanderer, a lost soul, a loner always seeking and never finding the answers that your soul longs for.
My mother died at 44, I was only 24. You can read about it here in Turn the Page. My cousin mentioned in that post also died at 44. Eerie I tell you! When my older brother turned 44, I held my breathe that whole year. I was never so happy as the day he turned 45. Tomorrow I turn 44.
Disclosure: This post not only talks about my fears and vulnerability, but also has Affiliate Links that I earn commissions from. This is how I make a living and keep this little blog running. Thank you for supporting me! I appreciate it. Much love, Kristi.
44 ~ I’m Afraid of You.
I’ve never felt I would live a long life, and was pretty convinced that 39 would be my last year. I started traveling that year. I lived my life as if there would be no tomorrow. I loved deeply and put my heart out there ~ I wanted no regrets in my life. I camped throughout the US and lived a life less ordinary road tripping the United States. I woke up and really lived. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time. I traveled nomadically for four more years before moving permanently to Alaska. There’s that number again – 4.
At 44 aren’t you supposed to have your shit together? I remember when I was younger I would think that of my mom. I couldn’t understand how someone in their 40s didn’t have it all figured out by then. Ahh the thoughts of the young and naive.
I mean when exactly are you supposed to have it all figured out? I know I certainly thought I did at 23 – I had the world at my fingertips. Then at 24 that world was shattered into a million pieces that I’ve been trying to pick up ever since.
Will I live to see 45? I don’t know. What I do know is that everyone asks me about being scared to eat and go outside {that whole allergic to every tree on the planet + shit ton of food allergies}. I’m not anymore. I’ve accepted the fact that if I die from eating a random scoop of ice cream or from walking through the mountain trees, that I would have died happy.
I’m tired of being afraid of dying.
I’m tired of being afraid of dying. If Porter Storm has is way, he won’t let that happen on his watch. He detected twice last week while we were at the dog park that my throat was closing. He hasn’t been taught this yet though… he did it instinctively. He jumped into my arms and started licking my neck. He only jumps in my arms if there is a big dog nearby… it is not normal behavior. As he was in my arms licking my neck, which seriously made me giggle, I felt it tightening and knew I had to get to my car and take more allergy meds. Within 20 minutes my throat was back to normal.
On the rebound
With the help of my brother I have been back on the path of getting my finances back on track. {Thank you!} I tell you, I never thought it would take me so long to rebound from losing the flower shop and my divorce. It’s like every time I am on the brink of success, I walk away. It’s not a fear of failure, but a fear of success. You see, we were doing well in the shop and then one day it was all taken away by something we had no control of. Poof there goes the life you planned right out the window. If that isn’t a mind f&ck about money, I don’t know what is.
Something new is blooming
43 was about being on time, never late, rebounding. My goals for 44 is to build Seed Plant Bloom into the business of my dreams… everything I love deep in my soul in one business… to not be afraid of fighting for my dreams and believing that I have everything I need to accomplish anything I set my heart and mind to.
Letting go
So there it is… I haven’t written a vulnerable piece in a very long time. I’m afraid of my birthday, of turning 44. BUT I’m also relieved. Maybe now I can stop living my mother’s life and live my own. Maybe she can rest now and know that I’m doing the best I can. That I love traveling, but yearn for stability too. I love being artistic, but I love my analytical side too.
I don’t have to choose one over the other, I just have to choose to be me. I love her, but I’m not her. I am me.
All the wonderful pieces that make up who I am. An independent, strong-minded, intelligent, hard-working, compassionate writer and lover of all things that grow. I know my faults, I don’t need to list them. I am very aware of who I am and who I am not.
I am a writer, a gardener, an entrepreneur, a scientist, a dreamer, a lover of living a life less ordinary… Living my life wild and free.
~Kristi
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