Beautifully put, Jill. I realized -among other bright red flags- the day that I got a brief email from the ex that we were done.
I was in Indonesia, on an epic sailing adventure. I’d gotten wicked sick in Borneo. To me, no biggie. I’ve broken my back, smashed my pelvis, cracked my coconut 21 times and this was a GI tract issue.
He said: “You don’t need to be doing this any more.?”
Response: FUCK. YOU.
Since then I climbed Mt Kenya, rode in Madagascar, returned to Indonesia, rode in the Muskwa Kechika Wilderness of Canada for four weeks, spent a month in Mongolia, rode the Bale Mountains of Ethiopia and in February rode the Masaai Mara, crossed hippo filled rivers, and scuba dived Mafia Island.
I’m 67 Jill. Nobody. Fucking. Tells. Me. What to do with my life.
Recommended reading’ Women Who Run with the Wolves.
I am a wild woman. So are you. Never ever ever quell your voice so that someone else feels less insecure.