“It is never too late to be who you might have been.” *

I can remember, when I was young, that I saw the world stretching out in front of me, and I had no idea who or what I would one day become. Every day was a chance at something new, and I followed a path that I set for myself.

There came a time, though, when the only thing I saw stretching out in front of me was time. I saw nothing to challenge me...nothing to do more than to draw me from one day to the next. I saw no possibility of change...of adventure...of becoming more than someone who went to work and came home, only to restart the process again the next day.

I was asked yesterday how it was I came to find the courage, the willingness, the chutzpah even, to resurrect my life and make the drastic changes I made.

It was a challenge that put it all in to motion.

"Kim," I was asked, "what is your passion in life?" A pause while I thought...and found no answer. "Or do you even have passion anymore?"

And I had to admit to the friend who had gently asked me the question that no, I no longer had passion. I had been going through the motions. I had been taking one step after another on a long familiar road that only led from one day to the next. I had no deviation, no experience outside of work and home, no plans that were not made for me to follow.

I thought about that question and remembered that my passion used to be words. I had been a newspaper editor and reporter. I made my living investigating stories, attending meetings, writing about the events in our town in a way that people who had not been able to attend would understand them. I had a column. I wrote humorous insights into daily events. I wrote inspirational columns because I thought deep thoughts and still could. I read every day...all kinds of books. I spent my free time writing to friends and communicating with others.

So I took that question...that challenge...and took a step off the path I'd been on. I decided, at age 45, to go back to school and get my degree before I was 50. At 46, I started school. Almost every day for the next four years, I poured myself into writing and did receive my degree in Creative Writing and English one month after turning 50.

It wasn't enough to get my degree, though. With the confidence I'd built in doing well in school, it was time to step out of my safe job as a cashier in a retail/restaurant establishment, and start doing something that made a difference.

Just before my 50th birthday, I became a Peer Provider at a mental health facility in my hometown in Texas. It was now my job to share my story of depression, bipolar, panic and anxiety...and how I'd come to live beyond my diagnosis and become my own person again. It was a step I'd never dreamed I would take...but rekindling my passion, pursuing my education, and deciding that the status quo was no longer satisfactory made taking that step not only possible, but necessary.

Now I'm 51. I have decided to enter into a relationship with my long-time friend, Pat. We've BOTH made a conscious decision to stop thinking we had to be alone the rest of our lives, and started entertaining the possibility of being part of a couple. We are 51 and 55 and I for one don't feel old. I feel rejuvenated...rekindled again...resurrected as my client mentioned yesterday.

Who will I be in five years? I will be strong, confident, and sure in what I'm doing. I don't know what that is yet, but I will know it when I see it. Until then, I will be strong and confident and sure of what I do and do not want. I will be bold in going after the things that I feel passionate about and not be afraid to think outside the box or be held back because I'm a woman of a "certain age".

It's not too late. It's never too late. And I will still be exactly who I might have been. :)


* George Eliot

"No one can grow in the shade." *

I've been in three major relationships in my life.

I married a man at 20. I divorced him and later married another man in my 30s. We divorced in my mid-40s. And at 50, I entered in to the relationship I am in now.

At 20, there were a myriad of reasons that I chose to get married. None of them were good enough to base a life-time commitment on. I barely knew the man, who was older than me...who had been out in the world...who had embarked on a career. I was young, had never seriously dated anyone before, had never worked out a compromise in a relationship, and had only worked the typical high school/college jobs. I had no clue about how a relationship was supposed to work, so I decided to take his word for How Things Were Supposed to Be and tried to submit to his ideal of What A Wife Should Be.

Seen and not heard. Maybe not seen at all.

He preferred attending military functions, which typically included the spouse, on his own. He preferred shopping different parts of the store than me when we were out.

Shy. Submissive. Subjugated.

Which I'm not. Which I tried to be. Which I became.

And what growth I managed to do in the shade of his attempted control turned out to be rather stunted.

So in my 30s, when I was manic, and I married again, I made sure not to marry a controller.

Instead, he wanted me to be in charge of everything...and he wanted to be close. All the time. Overwhelmingly close.

I couldn't leave the house without being called every few minutes to "see how you're doing." I couldn't talk to my friends or family without him interrupting me to make jokes or ask questions that could very well have waited. I couldn't leave the room without him asking where I was going.

And in the shade of his clinginess and smothering, I did not grow at all.

I was also very unhealthy at that time -- in the throes of a bipolar roller coaster, not yet diagnosed, and desperately needing help.

When I got help...when I started to get healthy...when I tried to take back some of the strength I had gained when I was on my own...the marriage (always shaky) quickly died and we separated, then divorced.

I became strong. I began to grow.

Slowly, and with the help of family and friends who did not try to control me or smother, but always encouraged me and supported me as I began to take steps to set my future in place.

Now, in this third relationship, I started out healthy and strong on my own. My friend and I met on equal footing, in a long-term supportive friendship, and built on that. We talk...about everything. We discuss important things and chat about silly things. We celebrate both our similarities and our differences. We explore each other's thoughts, dreams, likes and dislikes, discovery ways to interact and connect. We support each other in the decisions we have to make. More than a girlfriend...more than a lover...he wants a partner. He doesn't want me to be anyone but me. He doesn't want me to put myself under his control...he wants me on equal footing. He doesn't want me to be his mother or his constant-every-minute-of-every-day-touchstone...he wants me to be his companion. He wants us to have our own interests independent of each other, as well as things we enjoy and do together.

It is the healthiest relationship I have ever known.

I had to grow and get healthy to find it.

I could not grow in the shade...but in the nourishment of family and friends whose love was unconditional.

* Leo Buscaglia

“We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” *

For My Love:

You said tonight that we are desperate. Then you clarified and said that you are, because you are old.

I do not see you as old, my love. We are late coming to each other as lovers...but we've long been friends...and I think we came to love each other at just the right time in our lives.

I would agree that we had both come to a place where we thought nothing would ever change. That as far in the future as we could see, things would never really change in us and for us. Maybe some things would change externally – like homes, jobs, neighbors, and even a few friends. But I think we were both set in our hearts...or at least our minds...that we ourselves were unchanging, and just going along with life as life came to us.

Then we rediscovered each other as friends...and allowed our curiousity to be aroused as to what else might be possible for us. We each made, at first, a small...internal...but all-important change inside ourselves...that allowed us to dream and hope for something more than just the status quo in our lives. Tentatively at first. With a lot of maybes qualifying even the smallest of future plans. We are worriers and our anxiety...and perhaps our complacency with how things had always been for us...kept us from being too self-assured in the “what can be” department, and we danced still awhile longer in the “well...it would be nice if” realm. So many ifs.

But we grew bolder...independently and jointly. And our maybes became “can be” and now we are working on “will be”. Will be. We'll be.

You're 55. I am 51.

But we are not old, my love. We are mature. We are seasoned by life and practicality. We are wise to the ways of the world in many respects. We know that time passes...too quickly...and that we won't have it forever. We know that things happen suddenly and all that is external can change in an instant. We don't deny that there will be an end to all things...even ourselves.

But we are not “old” in the sense that we have nothing left to live for, strive for, learn, give, receive. We have not given up on life in the least.

We gave up...not even unwillingly...the idea that life was all planned out for us as far as we could see. We took a chance that there was more out there for us...and more inside us than we'd dreamed...and we found a partner with whom we can share all that we are discovering.

We are constantly finding new things to enjoy independently and together. We've had so many “firsts”. So many. You drove 2000 miles and more to prove I existed...that I'm real...that my feelings for you are true in person and not just online. I rode a motorcycle and experienced a freedom in movement and feeling that I'd never known before. We explore each other's mind and body and discover nuances in ourselves and one another that we'd only suspected before...if we'd ever suspected them at all. We met in Salt Lake for our first Nerdtacular. My first DragonCon and your first with a companion from start to finish each day. (I think, love of my life, that when we dress up next year, we should go as a Doctor and one of the companions.) You shared your bed for the first time in your new home and had someone live with you for a week. You've opened your heart more widely than I think even you dreamed you could...and I've found a true friend and passionate lover such as I had only imagined in my finest, highest thoughts.

We let go of the life that had been...and would be...and we are making a new life together...finding what life has in store for us...waiting for us for how long now?

There are infinite infinities to call to mind the first movie we saw together. And whether it is five years, fifteen, or another thirty...I would rather spend all of those years...days...with you...than how I have been spending the last fifteen, twenty, thirty.

I'm no longer content to let life just happen to me. I don't think you are, either.

We may be 55 and 51...we may have bodies that need a little helping along in different areas...but our hearts and minds are young. Because we are learning and discovering and enjoying and anticipating and exploring this new life as children do: whole-heartedly and openly. And we're doing it together.

There is so much waiting for us, Pat. So very much.

Don't feel desperate. Embrace the passion we've found for life and for each other. Whatever time we have will be all the time we were meant to have. We don't have to be desperate to enjoy it. We just have to experience it gratefully and joyfully. As we have been.

* E. M. Forster