Numbing Myself with Cake & PG-13 Rom-Coms

I turned 50 this year (2025). That should explain everything. Midlife crises 2.0. Complete dissatisfaction with everything. Feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. Looking around at the aliens and sleepers in my life and environment and wanting out.

Pre 50, I may have been called a lot of things, but no one would have described me as boring.

By the time I was Forty even, I’d done everything I’d wanted to do. Been spontaneous, taken risks, jumped at exciting adventures.

Now my biggest adventures are through the screen living out fictional stories with characters who find love and laughs. While eating cake.

As a recovering codependent, narcissist who used to be addicted to semi-psychopaths, I’ll likely never be healthy enough to date again. So it brings me joy to watch people on screen have what I’ll never be able to indulge in again.

And the cake. Well. It’s so satisfying.

When I started this piece in my head, I could swear I knew where it was going, that it had a point. An important message. Words of warning. But now that I’m in the middle, I see nothing wrong with eating cake and watching feel-good movies. Hiding in my house under the blankets with the curtains drawn.

Resting in my safe quiet nest alone.

Yeah, I’m okay with this retreat from the world right now.

Life is beautiful and I’m at peace.