*Warning: naughty language ahead!

The four F’s of the instinctual reaction has a fifth reactive response that comes when a middle-aged woman wakes up to realize she has exhausted everything within herself, trying to be the everything in everyone’s life.

What were my instincts telling me?

She is tired of trying to make up for the so-called wrongdoings of the younger version of herself. She stops wondering if she is beautiful and has stopped taking side glances with judgmental thoughts of being slim enough or attractive enough for the partner who is silent and unwilling to communicate their own fears.

The neglect we take on as our own. It has been too many years that there had been something about me, all the while knowing that was the farthest from the truth, but there was a pleaser and fixer who was looking back in those moments.

One day she woke up, looked in the mirror and started to ask herself some powerful questions. Then came the response that’s not the complexity of doubts and fears but a knowing, and the response is so real. She has been practicing this response under her breath for years. This time it came with the power it needed to come all the way back to her heart.

It’s the 50-plus years of being the strong one, the reliable one, the dependable one, and not once did anyone (besides maybe a few of her soul sisters) ask if she needed anything.

The rest of those around may wonder why she was tired, why she complained, and why she was frustrated. Those few in her community get it as they walk the same path. The years of fight, flight, freezing, and fawning her way through gets hit with an emotional blocker called feeling the divine love, then the new “F” response is born. It does not discount the rest or downplay the severity, those she had known too well or else she would have said more yeses to her needs, nor would she have taken such responsibility for everything.

She finally sees the compassion she has for everyone else must also come back to her as well. With clarity she sees the value in giving herself the rest, the hug, and the permission to not have to be something or someone for more than just one day.

This “F” is called fuck. It is then followed by fuck this, fuck it, fuck that, and fucking goodbye to the old ways. The “I am done” statement she has said a million times comes to life with a power and a conviction.

It has the appearance of crazy to those around her and many will say, “Well that’s out of character for her.” But is it? How would they know? They knew her by the roles she played and purposes she served, but they never knew her. She just let them all believe their own story. She knew who she was and she was the one who would say to her heart someday. In the meantime, she lived blending happiness and sadness, settling for a little sparkle of hope.

Then the day arrives when her body shakes, tears fall, and she can no longer hide. Instinctively, the vibrational energy gives the same feeling and word of when she hits her big toe. This pain is fucking real and it’s one big “fuck!”

The volcano has erupted and there just is simply no going back.

She is a woman who has connected to her soul, and she doesn’t really give a fuck if her energy is making you feel good or if she no longer jumps to everyone’s whims. She is now giving some of the best of her and her gifts to herself. She learned from the best of those who never cared to notice if she was sad, hurting, or if she needed something a little extra, like a little bit of love. She learned if they don’t feel guilty for choosing themselves than why the fuck has she.

So yes, the fifth is fuck it and it is a transformation.

Fifty is the number linked to the time when we seek freedom, spiritual wisdom, allow ourselves to surrender into the hands of God (whatever that means to you), and allow the woman to become. She learned from some of the best of how to be a priority and this is the moment when life begins to change.

You are not crazy; you are releasing. Fifty for myself has been the death of the woman I will never be again. The year in between 50 to 51 has been the pause with so many reflections of pain to push me out of the old and into a new life.

Moments before writing this blog, I was the crazy woman who had fawned my way through a conversation where I thought I needed to say so much, but no, I needed to let the last few years of emotions and stories go.

Taking a Velcro hanger—which has a story of its own—in each hand, I beat the living shit out of the hangers and pieces went flying everywhere, until I fell to the ground and just cried. I was not sad. I was just so fucking angry that I had denied myself this beautiful relationship with a woman that so many others had gotten to learn and grow with. But when it came to spending time with the beautiful, gifted, and brilliant woman myself, I would hang her in the closet, waiting for it to be time for this beautiful light of mine to shine again for everyone else. It just was the moment when it all became like a final Big Bang, and as crazy as it was, the anger became joy and some laughter. Life can be so simple but emotions that become stories sure can complicate life.

The journey forward is into the unknown, and this is the place I can say, “Fuck, I am afraid.” All the thoughts and responses are triggering the want and desire to react. But this time I am aware that this pain needed love and a whole lot of humour to spark the sense of joy that, I know through the experiences, truly does fill my heart. The rest is in the hands of God. But I am listening this time and sitting with this amazing woman, enjoying her company and wisdom—who has learned she will not impulsively react or neglect herself. The truth she knows by pleasing and smoothing over the lies. This “F” gives time to be sure of a healthy action, reaction, the correct kind of love and relationships that are not created with the shadow leading the way.

Most of all, now knowing this was one way of showing where the triggers are always God’s way of sending love back our way in protection, strength, or a voice. This time, I could clearly see what this “F” was saying—a big fucking yes to making this part of the journey. This time I use what God has given me to live a life that has no regrets, guilt, shame, or self-prosecution for living my own personal joy. It’s a time when you are grateful for those you love and the experience, grateful you can see the value you bring to the table. Now you actually start to sit and eat at the same time, because you matter.

Turning 50 turns us around and triggers a response that says, “It’s our fucking time.” I say it with such soft love and not a harshness. The energy you give to the words will be how your emotions are triggering a response. Remember that’s the place we catch ourselves in the rise or the fall. Be light, gentle, and kind with the words because dense and heavy will leave you unable to fly.

Now she shall do more than exist.

~

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