I’m not a good woman. For a long time I thought I was, but then one day I understood this: I am not.
I am selfish. I am slightly flaky, even if I don’t want to admit it to myself. I am not such a good friend. On top of that, if you remind me of it, I hate it. I’ll sulk!!! I care for other people, but not as much as I care for myself: I never remember a birthday, I never send a thank you note and sometimes I don’t call for months.
I had prepared a text for you this week because I knew I would be busy, but the reason I was busy made me so happy that I want to share it with you. I want to share my joy and my enthusiasm and just how elated I am.
Yesterday, I had a surgery.
This post is for members only, you can subscribe here! To sign back in, click here 🙂
There are many things about not having children that makes life an entirely exhilarating experience. An unadulterated sense of freedom, a ready access to peace and quiet.
It’s getting clearer and clearer that I’ll probably never be a mother, and it’s surprising to me – I am not sure how and why it happened, because unfortunately, I was never blessed with one of these profound “no kids for me!” instincts. I was never one to dream about motherhood either.
This post is for members only, you can subscribe here! To sign back in, click here 🙂
