My whole life, I’ve been the good, responsible, calm one. I’ve always been the girl who took care of everyone else and made sure never to act out, but frankly, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s time to shake things up.
It’s getting old, this safe, humdrum existence. Nothing ever changes or surprises me because I would have to allow the opportunity. I want adventure, excitement, and spontaneity. I should start jumping headfirst into everything I’ve always been afraid to do. What’s the worst that could happen?
I don’t have enough fun.
I have good times—tame, quiet good times. I’m not miserable or anything, but I don’t have wild, carefree, crazy fun. I look back on some of the stories of my past and even though they aren’t that nuts, they’re a huge departure from the way I am now. I want more of that in my life.
I stopped drinking and that’s made me almost too chill.
I’m terrible when I drink, which is why I stopped. On the other hand, I definitely don’t take risks anymore. I barely make myself stay out past midnight, let alone do crazy stuff spontaneously. It’s a shame, really, ad I feel like I’m probably missing out on a lot. Maybe I should start boozing and throw caution to the wind sometimes.
I don’t meet guys.
This part really blows. Being single in my mid-thirties and also being boring as hell sucks. I can’t even get laid because I’m not putting myself out there, having fun, and getting social. I’ll never meet anyone if I keep hanging out alone on my couch. I know some guys aren’t worth it, but how will I ever know if I don’t meet any at all?
I’m definitely not getting laid enough.
I’m always super paranoid about sex with strangers. It’s not worth it to risk an unwanted pregnancy or an STD, of course, but I’m also super crabby because I never get laid. I might have to let go of my inhibitions, go out there, and take the next man I want.
I get complacent and lazy.
Living this super safe existence means that I hardly even try anymore. I could go out, but I’m already in. I could try something new, but I don’t feel like it. I could go wild and extend myself out of my comfort zone, but I don’t have to so I don’t. It’s dumb.
I’m tired of feeling invisible.
Of course men don’t pay attention to me—I’m not the life of the party or the flirty one or the girl who makes everyone laugh. I’m just hanging out in the corner, chilling, and while that’s fine, it’s not getting me anywhere. I have to be more social and aggressive.
I need to loosen up.
I’ve always been a pretty serious person, even as a kid. I’ve gotten better as I’ve aged, but I still have a long way to go! I need to run wild, be impulsive, jump into trouble, and let myself go. I don’t want to look back later and regret the way I lived.
I don’t laugh as much as I’d like.
I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard I cried. It happens, but not often. If I’m going to experience more joy, I have to put myself out there to receive it. Next time I meet a man who excites me, I’m going to do whatever I feel like in the moment.
I never feel the rush anymore.
I used to thrive on chaotic energy and adrenaline, but now I just want quiet time and naps. I’m not 80, so I should stop acting like I am! I have to get out and dance and sing and laugh and ignore all the stern adult thoughts in my head that tell me I’m being rash.
I’m not getting any younger.
What’s the point of life if I don’t enjoy it? It’s not like I’m unhappy, but I could definitely get out there and make more edgy choices. I might as well—I’m not getting anywhere by playing it safe all the time. I might lose and screw up, but whatever. I don’t want to look back 30 or 40 years from now and wish I’d put myself out there more.
I don’t have good stories to tell.
I mean, I do, but they all happened 10 years ago. How sad is that? I refuse to become one of those boring adults who does nothing. That’s not who I am and it’s not who I’ll become. I need to act more impulsively and go with the flow and see what happens.
I’m tired of always being sensible.
I was always a model child and teenager. I never did the wrong thing. Then, in my twenties, I had to make all my mistakes because I hadn’t yet… and then I got freaked out and reverted to my sensible lifestyle. I still have mistakes to make and risks to take.
I feel like I won’t learn until I try.
I can’t grow or evolve unless I’m constantly trying new things. If they end up being the wrong call, so be it—it’s worth the chance that I’ll find something really awesome instead. I’m sick of playing it safe and having nothing happen!
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