New Car. New Woman.

I got a new car. I'm a new woman.

As a widow, it picks my ass when people tell me that I need to be alone, learn to be comfortable with loneliness, find myself, love myself, blah, blah. Fuck. Off. We continue to evolve regardless of our relationship status. There's no prize for the person who learns to live with suffering.

But.

Run of the mill bad ideas don't get me worked up like good ideas that I'd rather not adopt. I resist the shit out of those bad good ideas. My personal red flag that I'm in psychic resistance is the volume of bad curse words in my vocabulary. I love curse words used for fun or spice or emphasis or dramatic expression. Those ones are fucking amazing. They have a different flavour than my resistance curse words.

Back to that bad good idea.

Here's the thing with being in a relationship. At least, here's my thing when I'm in a relationship. I become a somewhat modified version of me. Eliminating those parts of me that don't fit within the relationship. Emphasizing the parts that are valued by my person. Adopting some of my person's interests and inclinations. There's nothing wrong with that. But after three decades of marriage(s), it might be interesting to see who I am without that modifying influence.

Goodbye BMW. Hello Ford.