How To Have A Proper Meltdown On Your 48th Birthday
I should have stopped at the honeymoon. The honeymoon was great, the honeymoon was ideal, the honeymoon was enough, and I should have stopped at the honeymoon.
I had looked forward to it, I had prepared for it, and I had mastered it.
I had eaten well in preparation for a high dose of too many restaurants. I had slept as much as I could so that I wouldn’t mind a few late nights. I had worked enough so that I wouldn’t have to open my laptop. I had connected with my friends, my family, my dog, so as to be able to unplug as much as I could. I had packed like a pro. I had my night essentials and my day essentials and my “just in case” essentials.
AND IT HAD WORKED.
I had come back home still fresh, still myself, still happy, and I had gained just enough weight to prove to myself that I had had fun, but not enough to have to reopen The Closet Of The Stretchy and Roomy Doom.
I had ordered many salads, not much wine, and taken my magnesium dutifully every evening in order to keep my digestive system going, and it had kept going. I had walked and even swam every day. I had been joyful and lovely and adorable because I was genuinely healthy and happy.
I was that woman who travels and stays put together. I WAS A HONEYMOON WINNER.
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