Midlife Musings & Late-Night Thoughts

There are days when I look in the mirror, and all I can see are the things I wish I could change. My skin feels tired, scarred by imperfections that catch the light in all the wrong ways. My body feels like a stranger some days, soft in places I wish were firm, tired in ways I can't always understand. My hair, unruly and stubborn, never seems to listen to me. I look at myself, and a familiar sigh slips out—I’m a mess.

But then there are other days. Days when I throw my hair up in a messy bun, slip on an oversized T-shirt, and catch a glimpse of myself in passing. I see my skin, maybe not flawless, but glowing in its own way. Maybe there's a pimple here and there, but it doesn’t bother me as much as it usually does. My reflection isn’t perfect, but it feels *real*—and real feels… beautiful.

I think it's normal to swing between these feelings. To sometimes ache over the things that don’t seem “right” and to have moments of pure, unfiltered acceptance, where we catch ourselves just as we are and feel a spark of affection. That back-and-forth, the messy up-and-down—it’s okay. It’s part of the journey, not something broken or wrong about us. This, I’m learning, is what it means to be human, to be a woman, to live in a body that changes, a face that shows life’s wear and tear.

For any woman who feels this same push and pull, just know—you’re not alone. We’re all just learning to love ourselves in pieces, in phases, sometimes slowly, sometimes all at once. And on the days you feel like a mess, remember that even then, there’s a kind of beauty in you that isn’t dimmed by a pimple or an extra curve. You’re a masterpiece in progress.

*Dare You to Move* draws me near, 

to nights wrapped soft in shadowed fear, 

when city lights, in distant gleam, 

stretched skyline edges like a dream. 

Beneath dim lamps, we’d softly pace, 

our steps in time, yet held in space— 

a fragile closeness, bittersweet, 

where hearts drew near, but did not meet. 

In his room, with cluttered air, 

and tangled sheets that held us there, 

I’d reach, then still my restless hand, 

as if a touch might break the sand. 

In silence close, apart we'd stay, 

each filling space that slipped away, 

while that soft song urged us to feel— 

to move, to hold, to know what’s real.

It was the quiet hum of *Dare You to Move* that always pulled me back to those nights—the nights spent crossing the city to be with him.

The skyline stretched into silhouettes, like the memories themselves: hazy, softened by the distant glow of headlights and street lamps. My heart would beat faster as I moved through the night, drawn by a feeling I couldn’t fully name but always knew.

We’d walk under those faded orange street lights, our footsteps echoing in tandem yet always with a small space between us. There was comfort in the closeness and distance both, a silent understanding that this was temporary—a gentle, aching boundary I felt even as we were side by side.

In his room, surrounded by his unmade bed and stray clothes, I’d let myself melt into the connection. There was a warmth there, yes, and a kind of happiness, but mostly a quiet sadness—a sadness that seemed to settle in the shadows. I’d reach out to touch him, but a strange fear would hold me back, as if by pressing too close I’d fracture something fragile in myself. My hand would hover.. retreating.. understanding that this was as close as I could allow.

We’d drift together and apart, filling the empty spaces without quite filling them. And through it all, that song played in my mind, daring me to move..

to feel..

to let go..

or hold on tighter.

And yet, all I could do was live in the in-between, wrapped in a feeling that was fleeting but deeply rooted, something casual and yet unforgettable.

It’s interesting how easily feelings can get tangled up. Confessing love after turning someone down really complicates things, especially when it involves nudging others to share their feelings. Seeking validation in this way can create confusion and unnecessary drama, ultimately impacting everyone involved.

If you're going through something similar, just know that you'll come out stronger too! 🫶✨

I remembered the countless times I told myself to just keep going, believing that happiness was waiting on the other side of my pain. Today, I can genuinely feel it.. the real joy that those old smiles barely reflected. Each photo serves as a reminder of my resilience and how, even in darkness, I was planting the seeds of hope. 🌈✨