WyzWmn's World©

often times
I find myself
wishing things could be
the way the used to be

the what if’s
will drive me mad

what if Mike hadn’t died?
what if I’d have gone to law school?
what if I’d not become an addict?
what if I’d not given the baby up for adoption?
what if the arm wrestler wasn’t a narcissist?
what if the Indian wanted a more normal life?
what if the East Coast boy wasn’t a thief and a junkie?
what if I’d not lost everything?
what if I’d not moved here?

what if?

this I know
each of these lessons
I had to learn
to bring me to
the person I have become

each of these lessons
were specifically designed
to teach me what I needed to know
to be me

you can’t go back
there’s simply no possibility

we can only go forward
“once more into the breach”

we can’t go back…

somewhere along the line
I think I stopped being a girl
or a woman

and just became me

I stopped wearing makeup
when my eyelids started to sag
like (unfortunately for me)
both my parents

not to mention the
Zippy the Clown incident
of 2004

I stopped wearing dresses
pretty much
when I stopped wearing
pantyhose
and no longer worked
for a multinational

I stopped worrying
about the way I looked
when I started shaving my head
all those years ago

seems that I stopped
anything that remotely resembled
a beauty regime then too

I stopped changing my earrings daily
I stopped painting my nails
I stopped wearing most of my jewelry
I wear jeans and boots
sneakers and men’s shirts

I stopped getting my hair done
when I realized that my alopecia
was such that I no longer had to
shave my legs…I actually rejoiced

I stopped caring
about the fact that
I can see my waist
sticking out past my chest
when it became obvious to me
that my diet around
having Crohn’s Disease
was gonna make it stick out
way past my chest…
and at that time
I made a conscious choice
to get better from the Crohn’s
even if it cost me
my health in other areas…
I’d work on those when I needed to
and I am…

and
somewhere along the line
I found me..

I shaved my head
had a hysterectomy
which negated
anything that resembled
a sex drive
and set about on my new life…
single and new

but I lost part of me too
and
sometimes
I miss those parts

I’m still attracted to
pretty things
but don’t buy them anymore
so I guess
somewhere along the line
I stopped
being a girl….

but I still can spend hours
perusing websites
of the kind of girlie things
I used to buy
beautiful charm bracelets
corsets and skirts
uplift bras and off shoulder blouses
high heeled shoes and boy cut knickers

so maybe there still is
a girl in there somewhere…
but she’s 55 now
and thinks that maybe
she needs to be less frivolous
and more real…