What’s something you used to worry about but don’t anymore?

What’s Something I Used to Worry About… But Don’t Anymore?

Ohhhh, bless my younger little heart.

I used to worry about what everyone thought of me.

Did they like me?
Did I say the right thing?
Did I offend somebody?
Was I too loud?
Too quiet?
Too weird?
Too sarcastic?
Too much?

Now?

Heavens to Betsy Ross…

I don’t have enough cares left in my little care basket to even hand one out.

Somewhere around my 50s, I think my “Give-A-Care Factory” permanently shut down, the lights went out, the doors locked, and Spirit Water showed up with an eviction notice.

She walked in carrying a glass of wine and said, “We’re done living for everybody else.”

And I said, “Well… alrighty then.”

Listen, I’ve spent enough years trying to make everybody happy, trying not to hurt anybody’s feelings, trying to fit into everyone else’s version of what they thought my life should look like.

News flash…

Someone is ALWAYS going to have an opinion.

You’re too loud.
You’re too quiet.
You travel too much.
You don’t travel enough.
You shop too much.
You should save more.
You’re too independent.
You should settle down.
You post too much.
You don’t post enough.

Good grief…

At some point, I realized people are going to talk whether you’re sitting on the couch watching reruns or running with the bulls in Spain.

So guess what?

I’ll take Spain.

These days, I’m choosing the airplane ticket.

I’m choosing the passport stamp.

I’m choosing the shark cage.

Yep… I’m still getting in that cage with a great white shark because apparently that’s on my bucket list. Don’t ask me why. I blame Spirit Water. She makes questionable decisions after a couple glasses of wine.

She’ll have me buying another pair of shoes, booking a boutique hotel halfway around the world, and saying, “Well… while we’re here, let’s go jump out of something.”

Meanwhile, normal people are worried about matching their throw pillows.

Not me.

I’m over here trying to decide whether Scotland, Greece, Africa, or another cruise gets crossed off the bucket list next.

Life is too short to spend it worrying about Karen from Facebook, Bob from high school, or the random stranger who thinks they have my life all figured out.

Spoiler alert…

They don’t.

The older I get, the more I realize this life belongs to ME.

Not the critics.
Not the spectators.
Not the opinion committee that somehow appointed themselves president of Everybody Else’s Business.

This is my story.

I’m going to laugh too loud.

Take too many pictures.

Wear what I want.

Buy the purse.

Order the good wine.

Travel the world.

Write the stories.

Love my people.

Pet Blaze until he’s tired of me… which is never.

And keep checking off every crazy item on my bucket list because one day, I want to leave this world completely worn out with amazing stories to tell.

So if someone doesn’t like the way I live?

Well…

They’re more than welcome to live their own life.

I’ll be somewhere chasing another adventure, probably laughing at something completely ridiculous that Spirit Water talked me into doing.

Because here’s the truth…

The greatest freedom in life isn’t having more money.

It isn’t having more stuff.

It’s finally reaching the point where you quit asking for permission to be yourself.

Now THAT is freedom.

So here’s to living boldly.
Here’s to worrying less.
Here’s to collecting memories instead of opinions.

And here’s to MY life.

Carpe Diem.