What Happens Next…

Written by on April 2, 2018

I am 43 next month! I guess this means I’m officially ‘middle-aged’ right?

My 22-year child has left home, living with his girlfriend of three years, whilst my 16 year old is off to London in September, (all be it part-time) to attend a Fashion college. I think I have done okay as a mum. Don’t get me wrong, there were some difficult parts. However, they both appear to have turned out to be nice people.  My husband spends his spare time clocking up his miles on his bicycle, so I’m a little unsure about what I’m supposed to do now and what happens next.

My looks appear to be fading at the same rate as my boobs hit my knees every time I take my bra off! When I look at my reflection in the mirror I see a stern Victorian lady looking back at me. Is that what I really look like?

I spend more time in front of the mirror plucking out numerous hairs which appear to have taken up residency on my chin! This is after I’ve plucked out the grey ones from eyebrows, only to draw on my forehead the caterpillars that society currently expects us to display in the name of fashion.

As for the weight! Well, I don’t know where its all coming from? I know I should use that £400 bicycle my husband bought me last year. I did try it once! I got to the local shop, but unfortunately ended up looking like a pink fluorescent meringue, doubled over with a stitch!

Anyway I’ve been treated to a new hot tub, for my ailments! Welcome to the M.E. and Fibromyalgia club! I consider hot tubbing a form of exercise. For example, I exercise my arm up and down whilst drinking my gin when in the tub, and its quite a clamber when you need to keep getting in and out in order to reach your snacks! I spend the rest of my time floating blissfully in chlorinated bubbles like a happy sealion.

The other day I thought I’d treat myself to some new undies. Size 14, that should do it!  Well they barely covered my privates! I now understand why old women like ‘big’ pants. Not only are they designed for the ultimate experience of true comfort, but they also cover a multitude of sins!

There, I’ve said it, haven’t I! ‘Old!’ Am I old though? Or am I just a little lost at the moment? I’ve spent the last 22 years being ‘mum’, and whilst I’ll always be here for them, its dawning on me, that they don’t need me quite so much anymore.  As I said earlier, I just don’t know what happens next.…

By Chloe Moore


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