A few weeks ago I turned thirty seven. What a strange age; not quite “almost forty” but far past thirty five. Technically I’ve now been an adult longer than I was a child, although really I was nowhere near an “adult” at 18. It’s a fine age to be, I guess. Meh.

Some thoughts from here, about 3/4 through my thirties:

• I’m really bad at prioritizing self care. I can self-comfort with the best of them, but as for truly taking care of myself, I’m failing. I need to do better, but gah, I’m just so tired. And have too many children who can’t stay at home by themselves (or really be in a room by themselves for any length of time). 
• This election season has rocked my world and has me really unsettled. I’m questioning everything- what I personally believe and value as well as who I want to trust and take advice from
• I’m wrestling a lot with my faith and with religion. I’ve realized a lot of what I was taught and bought into as a teenager affects me to this day, and not necessarily in a good way (hello, purity culture). But through the internet as well as with in-person conversations, I realize I’m not alone, which is comforting. More on this later.
• I’m becoming bolder in speaking out about everything. As a (former/recovering/work in progress) people pleaser, I’m proud of myself. I hope that I can raise a daughter who is not afraid to speak her own opinions and risk pushback. I think maybe that’s easier to learn as a kid than in my thirties.
• It’s really, really hard to talk about myself in terms other than as a mother and how I relate to my children. But maybe that’s an upside to this sort-of identity crisis I’m having- it’s given me something else to focus on.

The best thing I’ve done so far at 37- went to vote with this guy.