Crone
Crone, the evolved form of bitch. A titled earned with time. A title that is finally mine.
It’s been a while since I’ve been here. It turns out that words were not enough make a writer out of me. It turns out that words are not enough, period. I needed to go back to a me I’d lost before the pandemic. The one who used her brain most of the day to design and delight and problem solve for people I was not related to. I needed to go back to a version of me who was in charge of things, whose opinions and ideas were heard and discussed and green-lit. I needed to find a me I’d tucked into corners of times that didn’t inconvenience my child or my household. I needed to go back to a me that wasn’t working all night so that she could meet everyone else’s needs during the day. A me that was financially independent and able to wield the power that comes with such independence.
So I got a job. And in that job I discovered someone wiser and calmer than the woman who headed product for a small start up while homeschooling a tween. I discovered a woman who had perspective and insight. Most importantly, I discovered a woman who for the first time in a very long time…quite possibly, ever…was doing what she wanted to do and demanding that the people in her life step up and keep up. And much to her surprise, they are trying.
The house got new windows, a new retaining wall and a new coat of paint. The Crone got a theater subscription, hobbies that aren’t hustles and Platinum Medallion status on Delta Air. And the blog now gets an older, wiser, validated writer with new stories about new experiences and new perspectives.
Thanks for sticking around.