Fabulous Fifties

There’s something special about being a woman in your fifties.

I used to crave romantic love. I don’t anymore.
I used to want companionship—not so much.
For the most part, I just want to be left alone.

I used to have big dreams. They’re still there, quietly sitting in the background—mostly because I know I’m sitting on a bestseller.

I used to use dating apps. That’s over.
I used to have casual sex regularly. I have no desire now.
I used to long for my ex-husband because I thought he was my twin soul. I couldn’t care less anymore.

It’s nice not being lied to. Not being used.
There’s a peace in that.

I’m glad I’m not married right now because I have no interest in sex. I used to care about growing old, but that’s just part of life. Don’t get me wrong—I still want to be healthy and beautiful, but I refuse to give in to this world’s beauty standards.

I don’t want big cheeks and a frozen face.

I do want to be thin.

I’m talking 118 pounds thin.

I’ve been so desperate to get there that I lied about my weight on ro.co just to get weight loss medication. Don’t be like me. If you’ve been reading this blog, you already know how obsessed I am with being thin.

I’m up to 154.2 pounds now, and when I look in the mirror, I do see fat. Not a lot—but enough. I started the Wegovy pill on Friday, February 27, 2026. My goal is to lose at least 25 pounds, and I’ll share my journey.

There are things I can live without—but there are still things I want.

I want to sit in a café and write, even though it’s nearly impossible to get a seat. Maybe it’ll be easier in the summer when the Northwestern students leave.

I want mind-stimulating conversation. The kind that actually makes you think. The kind that stays with you after it’s over.

That kind of energy is rare.

And lately, I’ve been realizing something—

I’m really on my Vince Staples shit right now.

There’s something about him that makes me love myself more. I can’t fully explain it, but I think it’s his authenticity. His nonchalant, no-nonsense approach to life.

He doesn’t care about dumb shit.

He has 1.1 million followers on Instagram and zero posts. His bio just says: Leave me alone.

I love that.

There’s something freeing about not performing for the world.

He speaks his mind without worrying about how it lands. He’s thoughtful, but he’s not trying to impress anyone. He reminds me a little of my ex in that way—but without the chaos.

He loves Black people. He’s smart. He’s intentional.

I love that he doesn’t drink or do drugs. I love his show—even though I’m still mad it got canceled. It was different. Thought-provoking. Real.

I’ve started listening to his music more—Prima Donna from 2016, Ramona Park Broke My Heart from 2022. He keeps it simple. He’s not caught up in material things.

It doesn’t get much better than that.

I’m not interested in dating right now.

But if I were—

I’d want a man who feels like that.