Minding My Own Business

Everyone knows that life is about balance. This is nothing revolutionary. However, knowing something as truth and actualizing it are two different things. If life is about balance, OCD is about stacking a pile of hoarded “treasures” in one place until they all come tumbling down. To overcome the urge to fixate on a specific pile and build too high, I focus on balancing Fs.


This one is in my Top Five as all would expect it to be. My nuclear family is my everything. For 16 years, I stayed home full time to devote almost every moment to my 2 children and husband. I did a lot of volunteering for others but digitally and home was where the heart was.

Now, my son is an adult and the small one (for now) is going into Junior High. Their needs aren’t the same. It was time to spread my wings a bit a couple of years ago. I’m privileged to be able to return always into my safest space with people that understand me at my core and still choose to have me around.


Most of these are relatively new for someone in their 40’s. My friend circle is tiny, tight, and turnover is high. Until recently (the past decade), the only maintained friendships in my life were familial. There was a friend I had in college once that wound up turning out. However, I have called him The Hubs for over 20 years; somehow, I don’t think that counts.

Let’s just say this cup of neurodivergent tea isn’t for everyone. Should it be though? I mean really? I often don’t really enjoy other’s tea either. It takes some doing to work out the perfect tea party. Most people can’t be bothered.

These days though, a handful of people make my day more precious than they maybe realize. The greeting of the day brings an instant smile or even excitement at the prospect of genuine communication with them. They know me, the real me and still want that tea. To me, that’s friendship.


People are so unpredictable yet fall into patterns of behavior that allow me to know whether they are trustworthy and safe or a no go. The people that have shown through every form of who they are that they can be trusted to help maintain the health of my universe through all reason not to are the reason I have faith in anything.

The universe will turn whether my bubble of influence is flourishing or in shambles. That universe that teams with life, each life having a wholly unique perspective due to massive and minute differences, is ever changing. I have faith that this universe will endure.


Now, we are getting into the more obscure ones for my current situation. Fitness was once, well, I enjoyed getting out and breaking in a new pair of running shoes with a four mile walk. I signed up for every 5 k and 10 k I could for 2 full years. My sanity during high school was held together by the glue of sports: softball, long jump, shot-put.

I can almost feel the breeze on my face at 4 am as I ran down the street with the pit pat of my shoes on the pavement. It was so peaceful, except the time there must have been a racoon enjoying a snack in the dumpster. Most of the time though, those moments held me through the day.

It is now 6 surgeries and an hEDS diagnosis later, my fear of pain and injury often cloud my need for activity. Is this something I am proud of, meh… Not really, however, if I evaluate where I was during the era of surgery, I feel it may be time to add this one to my plate again slowly.


This one is rather new for me. Heather & Bone been a dream for so long that now I find myself not coming to terms with the fact that it’s totes a thing now. I’ve spent decades volunteering to help with everyone else’s business while I stayed home with the wee ones.

Valuing my energy-time efficiency is crucial to the success of my now very real and expensive business. A concept that I have until very recently been unable to even process due to inexperience and naivety. The 30 minutes here, 2 hours there, donations of art and/or supplies with money I don’t yet make – it all has reached a pinnacle of understanding.


If you made it this far, wow, you are one of the people mentioned in this article (you know who you are) or you may feel like you need to reevaluate your fucks. Fucks are finite. They cannot be just given out to anyone and everyone. It’s time to put my own oxygen mask on first.

Some people want my fucks but then don’t have any left for me. This isn’t always a flaw in them, but vampires are everywhere. They want just a tiny fuck. That’s all. Just a tiny one. Some ask for huge, big ordeals but mostly people want to nickel and dime us into oblivion.

Enter healthy fuck distribution – where someone is bound to leave disappointed but there is time left in the day to mind my own fucking business.

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