Somewhere, sometime in the last few years, I grew up.
I really only just noticed now.
Things that used to bother me, don’t. I no longer feel the need to know everything there is to know about people. I’m comfortable knowing they have secrets that I don’t share. I get excited about appliances. (That’s a big one. I own a brand new fridge and am getting a new toilet and new light fixtures for my bathroom!) I go to bed when I’m tired. I’ve stopped wasting my time on pointless things like tv and people who suck all the happiness out of me. Emotional vampires, you know? Ugh. I can set boundaries around myself and not feel guilty that others may not be getting everything they want from me. I’ve learned to say no, to let go of things, to apologize when I fuck up.
I always thought that growing up was something to be avoided for as long as possible, you know Peter Pan style, but honestly, I am much happier now then I ever was at any point in my life that I can remember, barring the day my puppy came home. Being a grown up … I’m likin’ it.