One thing I definitely value about getting older is my ability to acknowledge and experience negative emotions, feelings and fears without shame, judgment or complete hopelessness. After all, ruts and emotional funks happen. But at forty-four years old I can finally sit in my pain and feel miserable, all the while knowing that it's temporary. Unhappiness and uncertainty don't last forever, unless I let them.
The great thing about living alone was that I could sit in my own funk and stew in it unapologetically. I had the space to wallow in my misery without ruining someone else’s day. I could drink too much and too early without fear of judgement. I could Facebook stalk my EX without fear of being caught. I could put Keyshia Cole’s “I Remember” on repeat and sing emotively at the top of my lungs without shame or inhibition.
