First, yes, I am catching up on blog-reading (which is why I keep referencing them). I recently found one about this 40-ish woman who moved to France (an idea / dream / wish / hope / possibility I keep in the back of my mind).

I haven’t read enough of it to even know what she does or why she moved there, but this alone provides me reassurance about my future, regardless of where I end up:


<She’s about to move in with someone.>

“To put this in perspective, it is important to remember that I have been SINGLE for all of my 46 years. And I was good at being single; I must have been good at it because it seemed I was out of relationships much more than I was in them, despite my occasional insistence that I really wanted to be “in a real relationship”. Only once in all that time did I sort of semi-live with someone, and that was more about him hanging around my place 4 nights out of 7 without the benefit of kicking in for the rent or groceries. (I’m smarter now.) I have been alone and fending for myself for my entire adult life.

Is it hard to give up that independence for a completely different life with a man AND his children? Surprisingly, no. I mean, I am sure there will be days, at least initially, where I am inwardly craving some alone time or some quiet in the house, and in terms of working there (since I work at home), THAT will take some adjustments. But Georges and I want to be with each other all the time now, and I want that far more than I want to hang onto some outdated need for my so-called Freedom.”

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I don’t feel “desperate” by any stretch, but every splitup makes you wonder and question, so I’m glad especially for this right now. Hope springs eternal!

Ooh, and this one made me think too. It’s about the author’s new understanding of freedom.

Excerpt: “Freedom isn’t what I used to think it was. For one thing, it doesn’t mean being on my own, without another soul to answer to.”

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We might be getting into TMI for you now, but what can I say? I’m feeling “journal-y” tonight. And admit it, you like knowing a little something private on someone, don’t you? Who doesn’t?!