Now I am forty-five:

After experimenting with every screenplay writing method known to humanity, I finally have a system that works for me. It involves lots of legal pads and Uniball pens that I buy in bulk from Amazon basics, totally disregarding my inner critic and no freaking index cards.

I can confirm to you with absolute certainty that the hype is real; regular exercise makes life so much better, like for real.

I know I will never permanently give up coffee.

Self-care and maintenance have become a part time job. I have a person, exercise, cream, pill or herb for everything. My breasts have their own doctor. My vagina has two medical professionals in its employ. Which is the very least it deserves after giving birth to two 12-pound babies. ( yes that is 2x12) I need an elaborate system for all my supplements. I’ve laid in the dermatologist office with mini ice packs on my face after having my capillaries lasered and had my skin cauterized with a small blow torch after having moles biopsied. I take all my annuals seriously, and many of them have turned into bi-annuals or quarterlies. It takes a lot of time and effort to keep this thing up and running. Getting old is not for the faint-hearted. But I would never trade the inconvenience of aging for the wisdom and peace of mind I’ve gained. (see next)

I’ve finally made friends with myself. I put down the heavy burden of self-flagellation and stopped saying the mantra of “not good enough.” Not that I don’t do things that infuriate or embarrass me or find myself painfully awkward at times. (Hello, having one glass too many and telling people things that don’t need to be said, usually more than once, like five seconds later.) However like a good friend I am now forgiving. I still love myself despite my foibles and sometimes even because of them. I wish I could tell you when and how this happened. That it was therapy, yoga, meditation or some other esoteric practice. That it was a moment of insight at sunset on a remote beach that changed everything but I can’t. I just noticed one day that I wasn’t lugging around the rock of self-loathing anymore and life was way easier. That more often than not these days I think I’m pretty great. Don’t get me wrong I’ve done or still do therapy, yoga, meditation, etc. I have found some combination of them over the years more than helpful. I’ve already preached the life changing properties of exercise and if your thinking about getting a dog, do it! I’m sure it has all helped me to get to my current state of mind. However Mother Time's influence can not be overstated. If there were one thing, that she has given me that I wish I could gift to my daughter this would be it.

I’m still not very good at tying my shoelaces, and I don’t know how to blow dry my hair properly, you know so it looks good.