Fabulously Fumbling — I unintentionally apologize for every creative move I make, every second thought…and step I take. In exactly 1 day, I’ll be stumbling into a new age realm; the fabulous 40s. I remember as a teenager thinking being 40 meant your life is over, your toes will become crooked and your smooth skin will start peeling. I equated aging gracefully to a woman standing on the cusp of her late 30s giving into nights drinking wine, talking to her pets, sulking over hidden dreams and neglected days of pampering the mind, body and soul.
All summer, I’ve looked at the approaching month of November as the day of reckoning when I would have to step on a bed of coals and accept my impending surrender to my thrilling thirties. My full body scan has forced me to take a deeper look inside my flawed mind, and understand that I still have a lot of growing up to do.
In my 20s, I was fearless, reckless and in some instances…I was a hot mess. I was focused on college and working to feed my shopping addiction, but anything else that demonstrated responsibility for my true purpose, I avoided. I feared success, and the hard work that would follow to reach it, so I dodged a lot of responsibilities of reaching my full potential. As a writer, a natural born lover of words and description, I bailed on my true gift. I secretly stashed my two-pocket binder full of short stories, script ideas and theater plays and took a break from pushing my craft to the limit. I found myself working in corporate America for a team of people that preferred to hold back my progress because my creative light shined bright, blinding all opportunities of progress.
Read more about Jahzara’s graceful fumble into her forties.
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