I can wear eyeliner now.
I can also wear blush and mascara and lipstick and eye shadow and highlighter and all of the shit us women put on our faces to look and feel pretty. I don’t have to worry about any of my stuff going missing anymore. No more arguments about why it’s needed and who is it really for.
I can buy nice bras and underwear now.
No more wearing the same two bras over and over and over again. No more arguments about lace and padding and racer backs and strapless and fun, frisky colors. In fact, I think I’ll buy myself a set of booby tassels. Red ones. With sequins. And a matching thong.
I can post on Facebook now.
Whenever the fuck I want. I’ll have a Twitter account and an Instagram and a Snap Chat and I’ll make YouTube videos and answer questions on Quora and update my Linkedin profile and post WHATEVER. THE FUCK. I WANT.
I can leave my desk now.
I can use the restroom or go out for lunch or be in a meeting or stop at the water cooler for some small talk or simply walk away from my screen. No more worrying and anxiety about missed calls. No more demands about my whereabouts. I can just sit at my desk and watch the phone ring and ring and ring. I don’t ever have to pick it up if I don’t want to.
I can be your friend now.
Even if you’re single. Even if you’re young. Even if you’re a man. I can say “Hi” and I can smile and I can be nice and I can listen and I can laugh. And I can talk. And I can just be me now.
I can go to sleep whatever time I want now.
No more waiting for the kids to go to sleep. No more obligations as a wife. No more explanations on why I’m too damn tired. No more accusations. No more excuses. No more arguments about assumed infidelity. No more defensive screams. No more tears. Just my pillow, my blanket, and my dreams.
I can relax now.
At home. In the car. On the train. On the bus. At work. In the break room. In the restroom. At my mom's house. On the front porch. At the concert. In the park. Down the block. At the store. Anywhere I am, I can relax and not worry about you waiting for me.
I can show my kids how strong I really am now.
I can do this. I can walk away. I can live without him. I can do everything on my own. I can laugh. I can smile. I can dance. I can sing. I’m creative. I’m intelligent. I'm funny. I can go back to school. I can start my own business. I can make things work for us. I can show them things can be different. No more arguments. No more yelling. No more anger. No more tears.
I can be happy now.
This is all normal.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with me.
I am not a slut.
I am not a whore.
I am not a liar.
I am a Mother. I am a woman. I am a human being. I am my own person. I am me.
I can live my life now.
With my kids. With tons of eyeliner. With nice clothes. With lots of friends. With too many hobbies. With dreams. With goals. With booby tassels.
I can live a normal life now.
Thank you for taking the time to read.
Feel free to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or follow me on Twitter @PenNameMom
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