The Fucking Audacity

Forty-one days since I started kicking my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad internet habit. Clap for a n*gga with her non-tweeting ass.

While listening to an astrology podcast about the Sun, I heard this bit of advice: “Have the audacity.”

When was the last time I was audaciously myself? And I don’t mean brash and cocky — I mean showing up exactly as I am in the moment and being okay with it? It’s been too long.

If I was audacious right now, I’d tell you about my #BrokeGirlSummer and how I’m going to spend most of the next few months in my home, watching Marvel movies and cooking my own food because after being in a wedding and buying a full set of tires, whatever “play” plans I had this summer have been cancelled.

And no. I don’t need financial assistance. I just need to tell myself “no” for a while.

If I was audacious, I’d write more and not be so concerned about whining or talking over your heads. I would trust myself as an effective communicator and ignore that nasty bitch in the back of my head that suggests all my problems could be solved if I swallowed my pride and got a partner (my god, that bitch is the worst.)

Tightening one’s purse strings is what ordinary, pragmatic humans do every day — not a “punishment” for my lack of ambition.

As you can see, the “audacity” thing struck a nerve and it’s on my whiteboard because it will be my mantra until I don’t need it anymore. A reminder to embrace reality and be honest about it; even if I sound like a curmudgeon or a raging bitch. If that’s my truth, so be it.

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a girl named rob

I used to be "skinny black girl." I'm now a slender woman on the other side of 35 with no new moniker who is not quite interested in writing under her given name. Still writing my life, a day (or some months) at a time. Also, still black.

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