Why taking joy is a pain in my ass!

Who knew that taking back joy would end in the sentence, "I don't think my ass has ever hurt this bad."

As I mentioned in my last blog post, "I'm taking my joy back," my 34th year of life will be filled with things that bring me joy. About two weeks ago, I got it into my mind that I wanted a bicycle. I have no idea why I wanted a bike, but the urge was there, so I decided to get one. So I did what most wives do when they want something. I, in my not so subtle way, let my husband know. Again and again and again.

Me: "Wow, look at that person on that bike. I wish I had one."
Me: "If I had a bike, I would totally ride around our neighborhood."
Me: "When I get my bike, on my birthday, I will be so happy."
Me: "In case you were thinking of buying my bike, don't just go get one, give me a gift card so I can pick it myself."

Ya'll, I don't know how this man deals with me. 😂

Well, my birthday comes and Hubby took me to the bike shop. I tested many bikes, went for test rides, and bought way too many accessories than needed for a beginner biker. In the end, I got my bike!

This is the part where I should have written, "...and her and her bike lived happily ever after." Yeah, not the way it is going.

When I thought about this great scheme to get a bike, I forgot one thing...I haven't actually ridden a bike in like 14 years! The old adage that you never forget how to ride a bike (I think that is the saying...lol) is true. I still know how to ride a bike. However, my body feels so awkward. I wobble. I feel unsteady. And most importantly, I hurt.

As you can tell, I am a hearty woman. My ass is quite large and juicy. However, imagine the uncomfortableness of sitting all of my glory on something no bigger than my hand. It hurts and my "saddle" is sore. Even sitting on my soft couch reminds me of the soreness. Hubby just laughs when I sit down and yell, "Oh, my ass!"

I am on day four with my new bike and so far, I have ridden only five miles. I can honestly say, though, that those have been the happiest five miles of my life. I smile while I am riding and enjoy the wind blowing against my face as I go down a hill.

I still have a long way to go to being more than a dangerous beginner on the roads, but I can say, I am looking forward to every mile along the way.

Here is an added bonus photo of the neon safety jacket that Ryan is making me wear while riding. Thanks, hun, for really letting people know I am a novice. Lol.

I am taking back my joy!

This morning, I woke up to my 34th birthday.

As life has a way of showing you, things don’t just magically change to a Disney musical number because it is your birthday. I still had to do litter for my cats. I still had wrestle to get the e-collar on Frankie for his morning potty break. And I still had the same tired look on my face as I fought my unruly hair.

But today was different. Today, after doing the mundane things that my household required, I had a mission.

I was going to get a nose ring.

For the last two or so years, I have been mulling over the idea of getting a nose ring again. I had tried twice in high school, but due to my own neglect (surprise, surprise!), they both were removed shortly after. I knew, though, that I was now much older and more responsible. (I think.)

But then it happened. I let my own brain talk me out of it.

“People will think you are too old for a nose ring.” “Everyone has a nose ring, so you won’t want people to think you are just imitating.” (Add other unkind, crazy mean things that your subconscious says to you to keep you from doing things.)

So there I was stopping myself from doing something that I really wanted to do.

Then yesterday, after writing my blog post about the end of my Jesus year, I started thinking about that nose ring for some reason and the usual doubts came flooding in. But then I looked at the words I had just written.

“I have a renewed purpose to find the joy in the place where I am at now (mentally and physically)…”

We're all adults here, so I think I can say this with no judgment. Fuck my age! If I am going to find joy in the place I am now, then why am I stopping the joy of a nose ring because I am not a certain age? What exactly is the "too old" age? How many awesome people do you know, who are your age or older with nose rings and guess what, you think those people are really cool.

And who cares if others have one? Other people have noses too and you don’t see them trying to cut theirs off because you have one. No one is watching you, Beasley. No one cares. Get over yourself. And for the ones who do, WHO CARES?! Will you love your nose ring less because you see someone else with one? No! You will then know you are both sisters and brothers of the punctured and you will give each other the encouraging head nod of the piercing warriors that you are.

Ok, ok, that last part may not happen, but you know what, I would settle for someone just looking at me one day and thinking, “Wow, that girl is rocking that nose ring.”

So I went and got my nose ring. It took all of 15 minutes. Then I drove home, cracked a bottle of Prosecco, and celebrated my new awesome accessory surrounded by my cats.

In my 34th year, I have found my mission. I am going to take back my joy. I am going to take back all of the things that I told myself I was too old or too fat or too busy to do. If something once brought me joy, I am going to bring it back into my life and create such an overflow of joy for myself that I will be “living my life like it is golden” (Jill Scott).

Yep, 34 is going to be a good one.