Becoming Something

I’m turning 37 soon. I love getting older. The older I get the cooler I am. Seriously. My only issue this year is with the sound of the age. 37. Thiiirrrty seeeeven. It sounds like a dirty little gnome screeching in my ear. Thirrrty seeevennnnssss.

Other than the sound, everything else about 37 I’m looking forward to.

I was recently reading an article about a man who died at age 37 and what didn’t occur to me was to think “what a heartbreak for a man to die so young.” Nope. His age registered as a bit early to me, but fell in the column of “too bad” rather than the column of “tragedy.” Which kinda depressed me. Because that means if I die this year, people will have the same flacid thoughts about my demise.

I’ve been telling my husband I want a gold grill for my birthday.








I saw a woman in a coffee shop this morning and she had a tiny diamond embedded in her eyetooth.










“Cool bling” I said to her “how’d you get that?” Her friend sitting beside her was like “we all have them” we’re a gang of moms with diamonds in our teeth.”

Then I thought “imagine if I got all my teeth embedded with diamonds?! Tiny sparkles everywhere. diamond grill







I told the diamond gang that I wanted a neck tattoo. Of a diamond. They said that was a bad move. “Everyone has neck tattoos of diamonds. It’s very “anthropology. You’re too late.” Good point.

Diamond neck-Tattoo-90

I feel rad right now.

I’m a motherfuckin’ mother.

I get to do what I do.

When people give me shit I don’t take it anymore.

And I see my body as an engine, not an object.

The grief still bombs my heart daily. It sometimes brings me to my knees,  but I’m slowly learning, with the help of therapists and crossfit and pills and pot and my brother and my friends and making art and my bed how to try and  live without her.

I also know that some things will never get better. Some things will always be wrong. But my capacity for pain is expanding.

I’m fine with sucking.

And when I’m excellent, I roar like a tiger.

I don’t worry about money anymore. Which I must say is an incredibly freeing feeling to have. I’m not playing the game and so now I get to yell swears at the refs.

My whole life I’ve been hoping that everything I’ve done and everything I do will finally take me where I most want to go. And all of a sudden- I’m here.

I haven’t won any awards or built a big dream house or gotten any more followers or signed a book deal.  Nothing’s changed.

I’m just satisfied.

Don’t get me wrong, I still think we’re all aligned with somewhere more. I’m still looking over the horizon. But the somewhere more is going to be a surprise- the kind of surprise that when we get there we’re not surprised at all, ya know?

I’m pretty sure it has something to do with becoming more and more and bigger and bigger and truer and easier and easier me.

With a diamond grill.